


This Weight upon my Heart

by snowbryneich



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:49:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 53,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowbryneich/pseuds/snowbryneich
Summary: A blow to the head at sea costs James two years of memory. He does not remember marrying Elizabeth or the two years of distant married life they have shared.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by Blood of Tyrants by Naomi Novik

Elizabeth had bought a new dress for the return of the Dauntless. She had vaguely hoped to make a good impression on her husband, after all, there was a first time for everything. Their marriage was to her mind, and she was sure to his too a total disaster. Publicly they are a fine couple. They attended events, she mingled with the navy wives. Her father used his influence to make sure James’ got the best postings for the Dauntless. Which at least meant he was away a lot which was a relief.

Elizabeth did not think there was any scope for improvement.  Whatever feeling James ever had for her, must have long since died because of the distance between them, she was sure. He had realised while they were engaged that her acceptance had not been so unconditional after all. She had reacted badly when he had refused to even try and help Jack Sparrow and when Will Turner had broken Jack out of prison and left town with him Elizabeth had cried for days – which had been rather a giveaway. But he had been committed by then and her father had been rather insistent she kept her end of their bargain.

It had been awkward from the first – she should have just been improper and asked James if he would even care if she threw him over but she had not and they had wed and now lived in awkward avoidance.

 

James hadn’t even come to her bed on their wedding night assuring her the instant he had carried her into their new home that he had no expectations in that area. She’d be a virgin now if there had not been a drunken night just before their first Christmas where to her humiliation the next day, she had complained about his lack of attention and her lack of experience and he had come to her bed and taken his rights. He had been gentle and kind. It had still been awful. It had _hurt_. She had felt vulnerable and exposed and as if the act itself had not been enough James had pawed at her all through as if he wanted to touch her everywhere. Having done it once though Elizabeth had been prepared offer James intimacy though - it was something she owed him and she had made such a fuss about its lack.  She had succeeded only once in joining him before he’d instructed her to keep to her own bed. The second time hadn’t hurt because nothing had happened. She had lain there stiff and frightened and wondering why nothing was happening until James had awkwardly explained why nothing was going to happen. He was not even aroused by her. Despite nothing happening, she had almost felt even more awkward and exposed then the first time. He hadn’t even kissed her that time.

 

* * *

 

It was a lonely life really, even for Elizabeth who had never minded her own company. Her father was full of advice on being a proper polite wife which did not seem to improve her marriage even when she tried to follow it. And she was humiliated her father had noticed things were so bad. And at balls and events, she watched her friends and acquaintances with their husbands. She watched the other officers light up when they saw their spouse on the docks after a tour. Their genuine pleasure in each other’s company. The closeness when they danced, the small moments of affection at parties. Elizabeth had _none_ of that. She thought, no she _knew_ James had tried at first, quiet gestures where he tried to spend time with her. Elizabeth had been so sulky and resentful that it had no impact. James had stopped even trying that by the Christmas they had shared a bed. Clearly, he had washed his hands of her after that. James had stopped trying for her attention though of course, he was always polite to her, he was generous with her allowance and if she ever overspent it he would happily settle a bill or hand over more money. But the longer they were wed the more distant he got. It was foolish she knew to be dismayed by it when it was all her own fault.

  

She was even starting to envy other couples their children even though she had always found babies smelly and toddlers loud and children tedious. This tour she spent most of her time with Mrs Grove’s doting on their new baby. She hadn’t really wanted to at first but Luciana Groves was her closest friend if only because she was so hopelessly naïve she was the only woman in Port Royal who hadn’t noticed the distance between Elizabeth had her husband. No other navy wife would court Elizabeth’s favour when she clearly had no influence with the Commodore. And of course, now that Mrs Groves the baby was always there when she went to call. While at first Elizabeth had wondered why he had always been there when Mrs Groves had a perfectly good nurse and a nursery maid though with time she had grown more attached to the boy than she thought she might. He had his father’s eyes, rarely cried and had a voracious desire to put anything he could grab in his mouth. Elizabeth had promised faithfully that when she went to meet the _Dauntless_ she would assure the lieutenant was told all was well without spoiling the surprise that he had a son. It saved her from explaining the poor mite didn’t have a name yet as his wife wanted his input. Surely, they should have planned for that.

 

It was part of her decision though. She would like a child. Maybe. Probably. It would occupy her and make life a little less dull. (There was a chance, of course, it would be _even_ duller – she did worry about that on occasion but there were always staff for that if she did not suit motherhood.) It might even make James happy and it certainly would please her father. And keep quiet the gossip that would start saying she was barren soon enough if there was not at least some sign of a pregnancy. She would ask James for his attention again – which might even soften him towards her but if not, she would make it clear why. He would not deny her the chance of a child she was sure, and he would want to be a father even with her as the mother. She hoped. It was an idea at least. The first she had had for being less uncertain in her life. And little ones are affectionate. She knew that too.

 

* * *

 

But long after Lieutenant Groves had come to her for news of his family and rushed off to see his wife and child, Elizabeth was still standing on the docks waiting for a glance of James. Most of the other officers have left and she had started noticing that they are looking at her strangely. Though she was used to that in a way - many of James’ officers disapprove of her - he must make it clear what a terrible wife she was when they are away. But this had never happened before. She began to worry. She tried to tell herself that if the worst had happened they would not leave her standing on the docks unaware and foolish but she couldn’t quite sell it. They would probably think she deserved it. Eventually, the ship's physician – Dr Frasier came out to her and she was fully prepared to hear the worse and genuinely worried that she would not be able to act properly if they tell her she was widowed right here on the docks. 

 

She was made to sit down on the bench and the doctor tells her that James _was_ injured. Her imagination was so run away this was already a relief almost. “Is it bad?” she asked quietly. She knows men lose limbs. She knew worse things happen at sea. There was a good chance they could have brought James home to die and she trembled a little at the thought. James detested her now but she did not hate him. He was a good husband and she felt foolish she had not worried about his safety in the past. James had always come home before and she had known him half her life. She was told it was bad. That it was _serious_. That she should go home. That the Commodore would be home soon and then the physician would go through what was needed for his treatment. Elizabeth had walked to the docks because James rarely left with her once she had greeted him so it seemed pointless to bring a carriage just for her. She regretted it today. The short walk back seemed much longer and she found herself struggling not to cry. By the time she got back she had wiped her face and she went to wash and to prepare to be supportive.

Elizabeth’s annoyance at Dr Frazier only grew. She didn’t know if she should order a bath for James or a meal and she paced the hall until she heard the carriage. The physician came in first and asks if he might direct the servants which she acquiesced to at once. It was not as if she knew what the man wanted. She was relieved when the man ordered a bath and broth. Mild food could mean many things but James would not be getting a bath if he had lost a limb or had a gut wound. Elizabeth was shooed from the hall so the physician may speak to her and she barely got a glimpse of James as he was helped upstairs by some marines.

 

 

There was a bandage on his head but he looked well - irritated at the marines and perhaps a little confused. He did not so much as look at her but still, she felt her nerves unwind somewhat and she glared resentfully at the physician. He had made he worry for nothing! James was fine. But then Dr Frasier took her by the arm leading her away from the door. “The Commodore took a blow to the head in a battle,” he said. “Physically he will be fine but there were other effects. He is suffering a most pernicious brain fever. I am afraid it has affected his memory quite badly. He has suffered a significant memory loss.” Elizabeth stared. Surely such things do not really happen? It’s something from books. “I am afraid Mrs Norrington that one of the things he does not remember is you.”

“Oh,” she said in a small voice and then she blinked thinking something through. James had been her husband for nearly two years but she had known him since she was twelve. The best part of a decade.  “But I’ve known him so long - how can he not remember all those years.”

 

 

“Ah,” the physician said. “I have misspoken. He remembers Miss. Swann. Not Mrs Norrington. His latest memories are just before his promotion to Commodore - I believe that is when he proposed?” Elizabeth nodded. “I know this is a hard thing to hear Mrs Norrington. The Commodore has been told he is married of course - he noticed his wedding ring and he had letters from you aboard ship in his personal effects. But he doesn’t remember proposing, your engagement, your wedding or your marriage. Or your life together. And it must remain that way.” Elizabeth stared at the doctor then what? How could that be sensible? And her question must have been obvious because the man continued.

“I know it is confusing Mrs Norrington. The treatment for such a condition is very clear. It’s important that his mind not be disturbed any further. Many so affected do regain their memories, do recover from the brain sickness if they are allowed to do so naturally. And if they regain their memories then their mind can heal. But if they are given details of their memories and don’t have the chance to recover naturally they can be plagued with headaches and fainting fits. I know of one man who lost his memory and was not given the chance to recover on his own and he went into a coma and never woke up.”

 

Elizabeth found herself horrified at the very notion. How was she supposed to live with James if he had no idea how awful things were between them? “I see,” she said but she cannot help but sound doubtful.

 “You must not worry overmuch Mrs Norrington,” he said. “You can act as his wife and carry on with your lives. In fact, you should do all you can to keep life running as smoothly as you can. To make sure your husband is satisfied in ah all aspects.” Elizabeth thought for a moment she had misheard and now she could only wonder what sort of complaints James might have made to his shipmates about her.

 “I don’t think that sort of talk is entirely proper,” she said icily only to be ignored.

 “In fact, it would probably be best to be more accommodating in that regard if you wish him to recover.” Dr Frazier continued as if she had not even spoken. “Physical satisfaction can only encourage blood flow and memory recovery.” Elizabeth wished the floor would just open and swallow her up but the doctor did not seem to care. Only a man who knew her husband did not care one whit for her would dare speak to her so. “You must just not answer any questions he had about your life together so far. Can you do that?” 

 

 

“A witless child could manage that,” Elizabeth said coldly. “It hardly takes any effort to not answer questions.” She will not repeat his other advice. But something did occur to her. “But only about before? I can show him things in the house if he is unsure?” The doctor allows that this was acceptable. He excuses himself to check on James and to prepare some tonics he must take. Elizabeth was left waiting and anxious - it seems like a lot of pressure to keep so much from him. While being accommodating. She blushed all over again and hated herself for doing so. She was a married woman. Then she reminds herself that she had been preparing herself for a resumption of that anyway. If would she ask him to bed her for the sake of a babe, how could she not allow it for the sake of his health? And it might result in a child either way. She sends to the kitchen for some refreshments when she heard movement from upstairs. The doctor was giving further instructions and medicines but he did leave them privacy when James came to join her. The bandage on his head had been removed but she could see stitches going into his hairline. The doctor bid her good day and reminded both her and James of his advice and the importance of allowing James’ memory to return on its own. James gave the man a cold look of his own and Elizabeth refused to let herself sigh. Of course, to make it even better, he was unhappy about the treatment.

 

 

James addressed her as Miss Swann when he sat down - some distance away and enquired after her own health. “Please James,” she said. “Call me Elizabeth. And I’m quite fine - if a little concerned.”

James only looked even stiffer. “I beg your pardon for worrying you,” he added and Elizabeth wondered if his memory was entirely gone. James was not this awkward around her before their engagement, was he? He had been proper of course but not actively unhappy in her company.

Elizabeth reached for his hand and patted at it. “I am your wife. I am allowed to worry for you, Am I not?” He seemed thrown and then held tightly to her hand, curling his fingers around hers. “Would you like to have some tea?” she asked. “And then I thought we could tour the house.” She was not allowed to tell him things but surely showing him their home was allowed.

“I’d like that,” he said quietly. She poured his tea, adds a twist of lemon. Thankfully she was attentive even if they don’t share refreshments often. She poured herself a coffee, making it sweet, strong and milky. She helps herself to biscuits - she knew he wouldn’t - he had no sweet tooth.

 

 

Elizabeth sipped her drink once before she abandoned it and the biscuits to shift closer to him and brush his hair away from his brow to examine his scar. “What happened?” she asked.

“Shrapnel,” he said. “We lost half the bow rail to cannon fire and one of the brass bound bits struck me.” He looked ashamed. “I was unconscious for days and the when I woke the last I remembered was getting the news I was to be promoted.” He glanced at her. “And that I thought that might be the right time to propose.” His look became more hopeful and she pressed a kiss to his hand.

“You know I cannot tell you that,” she said. It was unexpected how awful it felt to refuse to give him the most basic information.

He set down his tea with a sigh. “I know.”

“Come on,” she said. “I am sure it is allowed I answer questions about the house if you have any?”

 

They walk slowly about the house - and then while she might have shown him the gardens before they head upstairs. James looked tired and so she only pointed out them out instead. “Another day,” she promises. When they are upstairs, she showed him the library and his study. “I never disturb you in here,” she advised quietly. “So, if you grow tired of me this is your natural refuge, though you have only to say if you need your rest and I will leave you be.”

James grew bold enough to pull her close startling her. She could feel him breathing in the scent of her hair and she has not been this close to him for over a year. “Please,” he said. “Do not treat me as an invalid. I cannot bear it.”

 

“Of course,” she said forced by circumstance to be agreeable. It was a simple request. Perhaps he remembered something of their marriage if he did not want her comfort. So she was forced to take the doctors other advice. She leant up to kiss him. She had at least kissed him before. Not often -the wedding. A few times when she tempted impropriety before they were wed. And the first and only occasion he had bedded her as the second attempt had failed on every level. It was rather a pathetic count for a woman wed near two years. She had often wondered if he got affection elsewhere or if he was true to their wedding vows despite despising her.

James surprised her by returning the kiss fiercely. His arms slip round her, and he deepened the kiss drawing her close to her him and nipping a little at her bottom lip.  When he broke the kiss, there was a moment when he stared at her with a look she was startled to realise was desire. Or she thought it was. He had wanted her once then and apparently did again. Worse, Elizabeth would very much like to be kissed like that again. But then he apologised. “I have always wanted to do that,” he confessed suddenly. “I know I must have before. It seems dreadfully unfair that I cannot recall.”

Those words are like a cold shock but Elizabeth smiled as best she could. “Don’t be silly darling, it was lovely.” And it was. But Elizabeth found herself at a loss. How was she ever going to pretend they have a normal marriage when even the slightest kiss made her feel a blushing maid. And worse she enjoyed it which was only taking advantage of his illness. It did not seem to excuse such deceit that she was only doing as the doctor had ordered and as any dutiful wife should. But James looked exhausted now and she considered. “I think I might want to rest,” she said. “It has been an unexpectedly long day.” And that – rather than any fuss over him persuades him that it not a great inconvenience if he did the same. “Come on,” she said. “I am sure you have seen your room but I will show you all the same.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth tries to help James settle in and prepares to follow the doctor's advice.

Elizabeth went to her room once James was settled – she rather has to having claimed she wanted to rest and he watched as she used the adjoining door for the third time ever. Thankfully despite its lack of use, it was not locked. James had offered her a key but she had never felt the need to lock him out. He did not want her or have any interest her and even if he did she knew he would respect her privacy. And it would look odd to the staff as if there is any point in pretending they are not aware that her marriage is a sham. She does not rest, of course, though she does summon Estrella to get her out of the new dress. So much for making an impression.

There is no point in dressing for dinner yet and she sits in her shift and her wrap and glanced over her writing desk. She had been in the middle of a letter to James’ mother which she supposed she could not finish without imparting the bad news. Her mother in law is a very precise correspondent. She writes once every three months, like clockwork, usually imparting some scrap of knowledge about James’ childhood and inquiring if there is any _happy news_ as yet and reminding Elizabeth that James is the only one of Lady Norrington’s children to not yet present her with a grandchild. Elizabeth had come to think of it as her quarterly reminder of what a terrible wife and daughter in law she is.

Occasionally she received some post from her own family. There is not many of them, only a pair of her first cousins once removed on her father’s side who are a decade older than her father who could not be more different. Most of their letters indicate they think Port Royal is some sort of wilderness and beseech her to convince her husband to bring her home to England. Elizabeth had been glad she had no such influence and could say so – she did not have to feel entirely guilty that she had no intention of ever following such advice. Back to England indeed.

She writes to James of course when he was away. She had never laboured over letters so carefully in her life, making sure they are entirely proper. James sends her one letter per tour no matter how long he was away. He assures her of his health and that of his men shares no details about whatever mission he was on and assured her there had been no sightings of Mr Turner or Captain Sparrow. That last was all the worst because Elizabeth could not work out if it was a dig or if it was the only thing James thought he could say she would be interested in. And that was worse because while it was not the only thing she was interested in – it was always a relief to hear that Will and Jack were safe.

 

She was deep in contemplation of the letter to his mother and if she should even mention James’ health in it when she was startled by James clearing his throat. He was standing in the adjoining door in nothing but a shirt and robe and looked more relaxed than she has ever seen him. She suddenly felt underdressed in her own shift and robe.

“That was brief,” she said abandoning the letter to come to his side. “Could you not sleep?”

James cleared his throat. “I was waiting,” he said carefully. “When you said you wanted to rest as well I thought . . .” Elizabeth immediately felt a great fool. It had never occurred to her he would want her presence still – he never had before.

 “Oh,” Elizabeth said. “I did not realise. I was just attending to some correspondence and I will come through.”

 

 “No,” James said at once and the rejection stings. “No, you do not have too. I misunderstood.”

 He watched her awkwardly for a moment and then continued. “I hope you do not think me presumptuous,” James said quietly.  I am not the husband you know and I do not expect you to treat me as if I am.”

 His words panic Elizabeth a little. If he had that notion in his head, she would never be able to follow the physician’s orders. If James thought that he was not welcome in her bed. Not without acting a complete wanton. She reached for his hand and leant up to kiss him again. “Don’t be silly. You are _my_ husband. You are the man I married even if you do not recall it and I am glad to have you home where I can see you recover properly.”

 

This earnt her another kiss and when he pulled away, he was flushed and looking at the bed and then at her and her cheeks pink when she realises what he must be thinking. If he had wanted to kiss her for so long - well there must be other things he had _wanted_ too. She was a few moments away from telling him he could have her if he liked - the doctor said she should encourage it but they are interrupted by Estrella who was coming to regretfully tell her that her cream silk was ruined.

Elizabeth really expected this would be the case. “I’m sorry Mrs Norrington,” the maid said mournfully. “But milk is bad and spit up is worse. I’m afraid the dress isn’t salvageable,” James was examining the hangings on her bed to give them the appearance of privacy – This was at least new to him – Elizabeth had redecorated every few months for the sake of keeping busy.

“Don’t fret,” Elizabeth said. “I might take it to the seamstress and get and alternating panels put in. But if not I should not have worn silk on that particular occasion.”

 

Can she tell James’ that Lieutenant Groves had a baby son? He probably didn’t even realise the lieutenant was married before now this had happened. And James didn’t know about the baby before -only that a babe was due. He didn’t know it arrived before he went away so it was not a memory for her to mention. But she isn’t sure. But when she turned to James after Estrella left, he was white as a sheet and sitting on her bed even though she was on her feet and panic shuddered through her. She went to James’ side at once. “James. Shall I send for the doctor.” A query that was utterly ignored.

“Spit up milk?” he said looking at her searchingly, shock written on his face and she understands at once.

 “Yes,” Elizabeth said. “From young Master Groves, he arrived while you were at sea - I have been doting on him quite a bit I must confess.” James did not look convinced. “We’ve not yet been blessed,” she adds. “I would not have let them keep that from you, James. I swear. Besides,” she added mischievously. “If young Groves is any indication I doubt I’d be able to - this is a large house but babies are _extraordinarily_ loud.”

 

James stared at her, disbelievingly. “Two years wed is enough time to have a child,” he pointed out and Elizabeth immediately felt scolded by this.

“It is,” she said suddenly defensive. “But we are not the only couple who has taken longer than that to conceive. My mother took 10 years to give my father one child and he wasn’t at sea half the year.” He looks chagrined. “Of course, I want to do everything to help you get well, James, truly I do.” She pauses. “But if I were a mother I do not think I could send a baby away - it would have to be another thing you were plagued with questions about.”

He did laugh then. “Of course, it would. Perhaps if I behaved, I might be permitted to be told if it were a boy or a girl.”

“If you were very good, I’d let you change a napkin,” Elizabeth said teasing and marvelling how easy that had suddenly been. She couldn’t even remember the last time she saw James smile before today. “And see for yourself. And when I am expectant James we need to make plans in case you are at sea when the babe arrives. Luciana still hasn’t named that baby properly in case Theo doesn’t approve her choice - and she only wants to name him after his father!”

 

“Well that is not likely to be soon,” he said quietly and rather despondently.

“No?” Elizabeth said. “The doctor implied otherwise. And even when your memory returns the Dauntless will be in dry dock for some time.” They would have ample chance to try for a baby. Even if she feels a little nervous at the very notion.

“Elizabeth,” James said practically stumbled over her name when he spoke but it was better than him calling her Miss. Swann again. “I am grateful as always for your indomitable spirit but I do not expect … I that is. If you wish to wait until I remember our marriage - I do not have any expectations in that regard.” He was blushing again, frozen in the doorway of her room. She found it adorable.

“Strange,” Elizabeth answered. “I was sure that you would have some. I mean – you are normally very demanding in that regard. I normally never get a moment’s peace when you are back from a tour. Oh,” she said feigning a perturbed look, “I should not have told you that.” It was too easy to tease him – not just because he did not remember that wasn’t true but because he didn’t remember he detested her and might actually find her amusing.

But her joke falls flat - James could not look more appalled if she had struck him and she lets him splutter for a moment and then he was apologising and she must go to his side and kiss him contritely. “I’m teasing,” she said. “You have always been very considerate.” He still looked horrified and Elizabeth felt hopeless – she was getting this wrong even when he miraculously liked her again.

 

“No,” he said. “I cannot think of anyone I would rather be teased by.” He leant in to kiss her again a little more firmly and she leans into the embrace ending up near in his lap as his hands slip to her waist and then to her backside. She blushed a little. More than a little. She cannot believe James was touching her in this manner in the middle of the afternoon. And it does not seem like the last time somehow when his touch had made her freeze wondering why he was touching her instead of taking what she offered.  

But when he was nuzzling her neck and his lips find a spot on her collarbone that made her whimper even while startled that a kiss on the neck could make her shake with feeling. She cannot help but wonder just why he actually wanted to go to bed this afternoon? He had looked tired but had rest been a hint that he wanted more. Had the doctor given him the same advice about blood flow? Did he want her and not rest?

 

She should just let this happen – it would at least settle matters rather quickly. But then James pulled away and apologised. “I am getting carried away,” he said. “You must think I will say one thing and do another. “I am sorry.”  

“Don’t be sorry James,” Elizabeth said. “You don’t have to stop,” she brushed a kiss to his lips. “I was enjoying that,” and even if not – she must bear the doctor’s warning in mind about his health.

“I want you so much,” James said sincerely. “I have for so long but I don’t want to take advantage.” Elizabeth felt a little guilty that it was nice to hear that – but of course, it’s not true. Not anymore. James just doesn’t remember.

“James,” she said. “I am not sure what part of you thought I wasn’t enjoying that - but you are my husband. You have been gone for months. I want you too.” She will share his bed tonight and do what the doctor said and hope for a child because when James does remember how he felt about her no doubt he will hate her all the more for the deception.

 

But James was not talking about tonight and his response to her lie about want is to pull her close. “Thank God,“ Elizabeth had never heard him speak with such feeling and then he was kissing her again and after a long moment, he asked whispering in her ear. “Can I undress you.” Elizabeth squirmed flush with heat at the thought. He had not done that on either of their previous nights together and while she has told him she wanted this and she had never thought James would bed her in the middle of the day. But it’s pointless backing down now.

“Of course, you can,” she said feeling cowardly. “Tonight. Right now you need to be resting.”

But she was committed now. For the sake of his health and her marriage and the hopes of a child.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and James grow closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note rating change :)

It was awkward to start with going through to James’ room, to _his bed_. Elizabeth felt sure that if it was not so utterly ludicrous to think she had only been here twice in two years of marriage even James in his current fond state might have noticed something was up. But clearly, he took any lack of familiarity to be a fault of his memory loss and not a sign of a failed marriage.

His room was familiar in some ways, of course, he had not changed anything since her last visit and she sat on the edge of the bed and told herself she would not think on that. This would be better. James pressed close to her for another kiss and she accepted it greedily – she had never been kissed before, not properly, not the way he was kissing her now and she could not help but regret that. There was a hunger in his kisses that had never been there before and it made her wonder why? Of course, he had to be discrete in church, she supposed but he had bedded her once – had he never wanted her even a little? There was something completely unguarded about these kisses and she did her best to respond until James pulled away and apologised. “I know we are meant to be resting,” he said. But then he smiled at her. “Only I had been planning to ask for your hand for some time. But I was utterly convinced you would say no, you see and part of me thinks if I go to sleep I’ll wake up to find it was only a dream.” Elizabeth felt a frisson of guilt. No doubt if he had his memory he would think it a nightmare.

“You know I cannot tell you about anything that happened then,” she said. “Doctor Frazier was very clear. I do not want to make matters worse. But I think obviously you can be sure I did not say no.” It was a most cowardly performance and when James pulled her into his arms to comfort her she felt, even more, a fraud. It had hardly been a proper yes she had given him back then.

 

  
Elizabeth did not sleep though James did eventually with her tucked against his chest, even when asleep he held her close and she peered up and watched him. He looked younger without his wig and younger again asleep. She had not stayed the night on either of her abortive attempts to be proper wife so she had never seen him sleep before. He looked so relaxed and content – both things she had not seen him seem before.

James shifted then in his sleep and nuzzled her hair a little murmuring her name, he did not wake but there was a smile on his lips. Elizabeth thought back to the first night she had shared his bed. A night that had only taken place because she had goaded him into it. There had been no smiles then. James had seemed uncomfortable in her presence and she had been any better though she had tried to hide it. But it had seemed foolish to ask for his attention and then seem nervous of it. She had worn something pretty of course but she doubted James had noticed – he had watched her of course but his eyes barely seemed to leave her face. Not that he seemed to like what he saw. It had frightened her a little when his hands roamed everywhere. Elizabeth had thought she knew what to expect her governess had been very clear about the marriage debt being something a man took from a woman. She had never mentioned there was anything more to it. As gentle as James had been it had been disconcerting to have his hand on her breast or moving up her thigh all while he watched her.

Since that night Elizabeth had had ample free time for her own pursuits. Her husband had no interest in her, the house ran itself and she had one true friend and didn’t have to socialise when James was at sea. She knew had always loved to read but in lieu of pirate books that were her old favourites, she had picked up a predilection for silly romance novels. The kind people said caused hysteria in women. She even had a few very scandalous ones in French. Perhaps her marriage was a disaster and no-one would ever love Elizabeth but she had a vivid imagination. So, she knew now that those touches that December night had been meant as encouragement.

Elizabeth thought the whole affair would have gone better if she had been a bit more widely read. But she hadn’t been and it had not. She had not been encouraged and his touches had felt more like an inspection that anything else. And he’d been so hesitant about it all it had felt like she had failed whatever he was checking for. She had been relieved when it had stopped and James had shifted over her to take her. That had hurt but she had been expecting that and she had bit her lip and managed to not cry until he was done.

It would not be like that tonight, Elizabeth told herself. If nothing else her reading might help her hide her inexperience – James would hardly be expecting her to be so new to it. Even if she did not enjoy his touches surely, she could pretend? It was no worse than the rest of the deception she was undertaking.

 

* * *

  
By the time James woke he had shifted slightly still holding her and Elizabeth could feel he was not just tired. There was something pressing against her backside and when he woke and realised he pulled away and apologised. There was even a slight blush to his cheeks. Elizabeth found it unbearably sweet. “Come back,” she said softly. “I promise I am not offended by anything you have done in your sleep.”

James came back to her then and she pulled him close for a kiss. “You are sure,” he said pressing kisses along her jaw. “I – you were joking about my being demanding? I would hate to think I was not a proper husband to you.”

Elizabeth arched under him as his mouth found a spot on her neck. “I am quite sure,” she said. “It was a jest James, I promise.” Then she thinks of the improper books. The doctor’s advice. Mrs Grove’s silly complaints that it taken her months to conceive even though Theo was a very keen husband. And an idea occurred to her. It was shameful – a more direct lie than the ones of omission she had undertaken thus far. Elizabeth had rather wanted – well to try intimacy again before she encouraged James too much but this was too perfect an opening. She slid one hand down under his nightshirt trying not to show her nerves as she reached to touch him. “When you have been away months I am not sure there is _any_ level of demanding I would consider inconsiderate. I miss you so.”

  
James kissed her hard when she took him in hand and she had barely managed to do more than squeeze and stroke him when he gripped her hand and stopped her. “Ladies first,” he said in a tone she did not recognise. This time his hand on her breast did not feel awkward. His fingers playing with her nipple until she gasped and then he lowered his mouth to that point on her neck again.

“I do not even know what you like,” he breathed against her skin and Elizabeth felt like a great fool. Neither did she.

“You seem to be doing just fine,” Elizabeth said.

“That cannot count as a memory that I cannot be told about,” James grumbled though that had not been what she meant it was as good an excuse as any to have no preference to voice. He quieted when he bent to kiss at the tips of her breasts and his hand rested on her thigh, his thumb making a circular stroking motion that made her tingle all over even though it was just her leg he was touching. Elizabeth bit her lip – how could it feel _so_ different to before.

“Perhaps I just have faith that you will find your way,” she encouraged and James pressed her into the pillow with a kiss as his hand slipped higher up and she held her breath as his touch pressed against her in a way that almost immediately seemed overwhelming. She whimpered his name into his mouth, tangling one hand in his hair. Nothing about their previous experience had been like this. Before had been fraught and uncomfortable and if he could only recover his health, she would almost be grateful for the memory loss for giving her _this_ sort of moment. She never thought to have anything like this. Even when she had thought to ask him for a child – she had never thought she would enjoy the process. It made her feel she should be doing more for him and she reached for him again only for her to be startled that when she managed to take him in hand and stroking along the length of him. Still, she felt like she had only just got the hang of that - that she had barely touched him at all when he gasped and stilled and now her hand was all sticky. So much for worrying, she would not know what to do. She had not expected that – or at least not so quickly and she blinked up at him unable to hide her surprise then wiped her hand on his shirt.

  
“I’m so sorry,” James said and he was clearly mortified. “Elizabeth, I didn’t mean to – I just.” He was blushing now. “You are so beautiful,” he said in a tone filled with wonder.

Elizabeth couldn’t bear his frantic worry over it. “It’s alright,” she said. “It just means you missed me.” She was a little disappointed - the needy feeling he conjured in her hasn’t gone away and she had been looking forward to experiencing _something_. But clearly, he would be keen again soon and she probably should be more considerate of this feeling like a first to him. It was practically to her but he didn’t know that.

But then James kissed her again and offers. “Well now I have a little longer to work out what you like,” he murmured against her skin. His kiss’s drift lower and his attention to her breasts are much more prolonged this time as his hand slipped up back her thigh to touch her. It’s a tease at first but then Elizabeth finds herself wound tighter and tighter by his touch and startled by how good it felt - she had read of course there could be more to this but she had never imagined it could feel this good. Then he startled her more when he slipped first one then two fingers inside her as he pressed hard with his thumb at that point that was driving her mad and she panted his name pushing herself against his hand, feeling utterly helpless as pleasure overtook her and she closed her eyes as everything seemed overwhelming and she squirmed away from him because it’s too much. But when she opened her eyes and blinked up at him a little embarrassed to have felt so wild. James looked very very pleased with himself indeed. When she stopped trembling and he leant into kiss her. “Perhaps you missed me too,” he ventured and she smiled even as she pushed down yet more guilt.

“Very much,” Elizabeth lied. How could she say otherwise? And it was not entirely false she considered. It was so strange to have an affectionate close husband and that he had paid such attention to her to make sure she enjoyed this. If it had been like this before – well she would have missed him. She would have missed him very much indeed.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James learns a little more about his wife.

There was a moment after James had finally stopped grinning foolishly at the fact she had missed him that Elizabeth thought he might want more from her. His joy was a wonder to watch and a scolding for her dishonesty all wrapped up in one. But he did not – in fact, he slipped back into sleep and Elizabeth reminded herself that he was ill. Very ill. Brain fever.

She pressed a kiss to his lips and slipped out of his arms and through to her own room and rang for Estrella to dress her. She sent a message to the kitchen for the cook to plan a better dinner - to welcome James home. She was non-specific, she was walking a fine line with cook generally who did not take direction well. Then she sat at her dressing table while Estrella fussed with her hair and thought about the fact that she could only expect this affection to continue as long as James was effectively ill. That he could become more ill if he did not remember and would detest her if he did remember. It was a relief when Estrella finally left and Elizabeth told herself she would not cry. She would not. Not much anyway. She only allowed herself a little time for this foolishness before she pulled herself together and dried her eyes and washed her face. That had been foolish with James next door - what would he think.

 

 

She checked on James shortly after that touching his face when he stirred and asked if he would like something brought to him. He took that amiss and snapped at her.

“No, I am not an invalid, Elizabeth.” James had said sitting up. “Kindly desist in treating me like one.”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth said soothingly reverting to properness even it was another lie. He was ill. She should be allowed to worry about him. But this was at least familiar, the feeling she could do nothing right. She laid out a fresh shirt and jacket for him and left him to change.

 

 

Elizabeth barely ate at dinner feeling anxious. He had no appetite either which was unusual. James normally cleared his plate regardless of what was served. She had not managed to work out a preference for anything in the time he had been at home during their marriage. So his lack of appetite was concerning but given his reaction early she can hardly act concerned. Not about his health anyway and she went to his side and asked about the food, forcing him to his feet. “Was it not to your liking? I can speak to the cook – or the house keeper.”

Elizabeth was startled when he took her hand. “Elizabeth, I am so very sorry. I should never have spoken to you in such a manner.”

“It’s alright,” she said. “I know it must be annoying to be fussed over. But I think I would like to be permitted to worry over my husband.”

James kissed her hand - “I do not want to worry you,” he said. But her acceptance of his apology summoned up some appetite and he did eat his dessert but then so did she, it’s a course she always finished.

 

 

After dinner, it became awkward again when James asked which room they used for a drawing room. The house had several suitable rooms– James had not stinted when buying them a property. Elizabeth was immediately torn; the parlour she generally used was one she spent time in by herself – it was not as if they were in each other’s pockets much of the time. She was stuck between suggesting one of other rooms to keep that her own. But she was very sure none of the other rooms looked lived in at all. She had no idea where James spent his evenings – he could be out every night with a mistress or drinking himself into a stupor in a tavern for all she ever saw him after dinner.

But even in her parlour, there was no sign of him there which would no doubt look just as odd. In the end, she chooses that one - there are books stacked about and a basket of knitting - she was making a blanket for the Groves baby – well she was trying. It had been started when Luciana gave her the happy news and she still was not finished. Knitting was so very dull.

Her favoured couch had a blanket tossed over the back - for those occasions when she did not stir herself to go and sleep in the room next to his. (Quite often in fact, on days when she had not forced herself into a corset which there are quite a few of when James was at sea and she was not forcing herself to be social.) There was a decanter of rum and one of brandy too and a bottle of almond liqueur she was fond of. She drank quite a lot which she knew she should be ashamed of though had never quite managed it. No-one cared what she did so why should she not do as she liked. At least it meant she could offer him a brandy if he wanted one.

 

 

James wandered around the room and examined her things one by one. His startled look at her knitting seems about right. “I like it better than sewing,” she defended. “And Luciana might name me godmother if the Lieutenant agrees - it seemed worth some effort.”

James looked exceedingly cheered by that notion. “I think the Lieutenant is bound to agree. I am to be godfather, he asked me after the accident and Dr Frazier scolded him for half an hour while he protested that telling me about his coming child was hardly interfering with my memory. I think Frazier might have driven me entirely insane if he hadn’t been so busy trying to keep Lieutenant Groves away from me as unworthy of being trusted to follow orders.” That was easy enough to picture Elizabeth admitted to herself. James touched the blanket again and smiled at her hopefully. “It’s lovely,” he paused. “Perhaps you will do something similar when we are blessed?”

There was such hope in his voice at that question and it gave her a spark of hope. Perhaps he would not hate her entirely when he remembered the truth. Perhaps he might think her lies worth it if there was a child on the way. She nodded. “I would,” she said. “Perhaps it will be soon. We will have more chance to try if the repairs the Dauntless needs take some time.” And his recovery, of course, which she was not going to bring up.

 

“I have been away a great deal then?” James asked suddenly. “They took my logs from me – based on Frazier’s advice.” Elizabeth paused. He had been. He was away for three months when they first wed, hunting Jack and the Black Pearl after the escape. Then he had been back for two months and away for another three. It had been on his second return from sea – just in time for Christmas when they had briefly tried intimacy - then in the second year of their marriage he had been barely been home more than a month at a time. Apart from one period which – it had been the worst of their marriage two months in which he had either avoided her or criticised her and once had snapped at her at public and she had been humiliated. She had feared that might be there marriage from now on but then on his next visit home, he had been back to normal. Polite and distant and that had been a relief.

“I suppose you can’t answer that,” James said after a moment’s silence.

“I don’t think I should,” Elizabeth said grateful for the out. “But I think I can say I would have liked you home more without seeming a complete fool who wishes you badly in your career?” This made him smile – it was still strange to be able to do that. Elizabeth tried to think of the last time she had and unfortunately can only think of the odd period when his temper had been so short. They had been at a garden party where they had been standing politely together and a debutante had come over to flatter him and had aimed some snide remark at Elizabeth. And he’d laughed to her hurt surprise. Did that count. She hardly thinks so – she can’t even remember what the remark was though – only that James had laughed.

 

“I don’t seem to have much here,” James said examining the pile of books. “I suspect all those books are yours.” Elizabeth flushed at the pile of romances.  James had not forbidden her the pirate books, as she had once feared. When she thought he would be dull and disapproving. Instead, he had turned out to be distant and dutiful – which was no better. But Elizabeth had not bought as many and would not leave them about if so. She did act a proper navy wife now. As best she could. Most of her reading was romances now. But having him look at him made her wish they were pirate books. She could not bear the thought of having undone his bad opinion of her for him to conclude she was a silly girl.

“You always pack your things away before you go,” she said. “I know you want to take the books you are reading but why you feel the need to remove any evidence of yourself I don’t know. You are always so tidy.” This was a lie and she felt a burst of guilt - surely that could not be good for his mind. Not that she could unsay it.

James only laughed. “Old habit,” he said. “When you have become used to living out of a sea chest I suppose it is hard to spread out so much.” He picked up one of the romance books and offered. “I could read to you if you liked if you wish to progress with your work.” He had chosen one she had not yet started so she nods though and let him start from the beginning. It was odd to have his company and she dropped half a dozen stiches while James carefully read to her. They had ended up settled so she was nearly in his lap and he held the book one handed, with the other resting on her waist. It could have been a lovely notion but the book was rather florid and soon enough James was clearing his throat at the end of near every sentence. She finished off a row of her blanket just as they get to the near seduction of the main character.

“I’m actually a little tired now,” Elizabeth said feeling foolish over her reading material. She almost wanted to defend it but how can she without explaining how bad things have become and she felt like retreating. “It has been a long day, I think I’ll retire.”

 

James pressed a kiss to her cheek and set the book down clearly meaning to follow suit. Of course, she had made him if not a promise at least an offer for that night. One that was enough to make her blush all over again. It surprised her then when by her door James said. “I will not – I would not make any further requests of you tonight,” he said. “Not if you are tired. I am sorry if I have been overly demanding.”

“You have not been overly demanding,” Elizabeth said reaching for his hand to pull him into her chamber, then through to his own. She was being foolish and she could not afford it. She needed every chance she could get. He could wake up tomorrow hating her again and they had not even done anything that could result in a baby. And while she felt she was not quite confident enough to make demands of him, she could hint. “I am not that tired,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And I believe you made a request for tonight.” She steered one hand to her laces and James flushed as he led her to his bed and sat her on the edge as he slowly dealt with her laces and layers until she had nothing but her shift and stockings. He peeled down one stocking and then the other and pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee and fussed a little with the hem of the shift.

 

“You are sure?” James asked staring at up at her concern and hope warring on his face. “Have we – have we done so before?”

“James!” Elizabeth scolded. “Don’t be so cheeky.” James looked stunned until she continued. “Will you not want me undressed just because we have done so before – even if you do not recall it?” This was better than reminding him of the rules she was sure. He blushed.

“That was not what I meant,” James defended and Elizabeth reached for her own hem to pull it up and leave herself bare before him. It was nerve-wracking to be entirely naked before him – while pretending it was not because he would only think it odd if she was nervous about him. But only until he let himself look and then his reaction was entirely gratifying. “Dear God Elizabeth,” he said. “You are beyond compare,” and then he was kissing her again, pushing her back onto the bed, one hand slipping between her legs to rouse her as he held back nothing of his want for her. Elizabeth closed her eyes and let him have his way. It was difficult to believe that this version of James – one who might as well be a stranger for how different he was from her steady distant husband – could stir such feeling in her. She felt a flush of guilt at that but it was hardly unfaithfulness. He was her husband either way. Just because he had some regard for her without his memories. But the thought brought her back to herself a little more.

 

“James,” she said – just to see if he would pay attention and he broke the kiss to stare down at her. “I believe turnabout is fair play,” she said tugging at his shirt. And he let her remove that while he unfastened his breeches. James barely managed to get his breeches off before he pushed against her and she bit back a small squeak at the sensation of having him inside her. She was startled by how different it felt - she was slick there which made her blush a little and realise it must be an effect of his touch pleasing her. It made it so much easier for her to accept him and she could not help but be a little startled that it felt good to have him inside her. Though it was still a little difficult. He seemed so large and there was a slight ache from the pressure of being so entirely filled but it was not all pain – not like the last time and she arched a little as if thinking on that was a mistake. But that only shifts the angle of what he was doing but in a good way and Elizabeth whimpered which made him still at once.

“Darling?” he said concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth told him shakily. “It has been a little while is all.” She was rewarded with another kiss.

“I will be gentle,” James told her. “I promise Elizabeth,” and she nodded up at him. She did not want him to stop.

 

“James please,” she said as his thrusts become slow and steady and ever so good. He pressed his forehead against hers, his green eyes meeting hers as he thrust into her again and again as her breath hitched with want.

“Elizabeth, you feel incredible,” he exhaled against her skin. “And look more so. You are so beautiful, love.” The word stung more than it should and it would distract her from the sensation if not for his hand slipping between them to coax yet more pleasure out of her.

Unlike the previous time he had her or there encounter this afternoon – this time James lasted and lasted. Even after she had been overwhelmed it felt so good to have him close and moving against her murmuring her name. When he did finally still after his breath became ragged, he remained atop her for some time his face pressed into her hair. It was only when his weight became uncomfortable and she squirmed that he shifted off her but pulled her with him so she was in his arms still stealing another kiss and then another. “Elizabeth, darling,” he said breaking away from her. “I love” Elizabeth leant in and stole another kiss before he could finish. She cannot bear it. She does not want to hear it, knowing that it would not be true if he was in his right mind. And she would not be able to say it back. Some lies are too much.

 

“You must not over exert yourself,” she reminded him. She will treat him like an invalid – that will no doubt change his feelings somewhat. “Rest now, James.” She reached for her shift while forcing herself not to cover herself. It was too late to be modest.

But James was not irritated by her comment this time which was most inconvenient of him, instead, he looked hurt. “We don’t sleep together?”

“I thought you might need your rest,” Elizabeth said dodging the question, unable to say anything else having made her move. It was quite proper for a man and wife of their station to maintain separate chambers but she could hardly say that when James was watching her his green eyes wide and apparently having very clear ideas of how their marriage would be.  “I am quite a restless sleeper,” she said. “I’d hate to disturb you.”

 

James held her tight and kissed her again. “I am quite sure it won’t bother me.” He let her recover her shift and dress but he did not bother for himself and Elizabeth found herself letting one hand wander over his chest finding mark after mark, and wondering just which of them were new. James had never complained of any injuries but she was sure some of these were not old scars. But before she could ask anything James fell asleep. Elizabeth lay awake for a long time, watching him. He looked very peaceful and Elizabeth cannot help but wish for a marriage where this was really her life. Where James was this pleased to be with her. Instead, she could only lie to him for the sake of his health and a half-hearted hope that he might get her with child. But this was the life she had and when she fell asleep in his arms it felt sweet, even if was only temporary.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our happy couple discuss what James does remember of their courtship

Elizabeth woke to find her husband was watching her sleep. She was no longer in his arms and had kicked off most of the covers. James was propped up on one elbow and was smiling at her. “You are restless,” he said leaning over to steal a kiss. “But it does not disturb me.” Elizabeth slipped her arms around him and laughs a little. His hand rested on the small of her back for a moment before it slips down to her backside, she blushes a little but did not object. “Do we spend mornings in bed often?”

She kissed him then and shook her head. “Don’t make me scold James. You know I’m not supposed to tell you how things were.” He looked a little put out and Elizabeth felt foolish. “But we can spend this morning in bed,” she reminded him. She was hardly used to seduction but she did shrug her shift down one shoulder – it was not exactly flashing him but even with this version of James who was so keen on her it was strange to be so improper on purpose.

  
But it worked. James took the hint and leant in to unfasten her shift as he kissed her again. Her shift was unfastened to her waist and her breasts bared. It should not embarrass her - he stripped her entirely bare yesterday but she can feel herself start to blush, heat pinking in her cheeks. But then his mouth was on her skin and suddenly she felt hot all over.

  
His hand was between her legs stroking her and she arched under him startled all over again at how good that felt. He entered her at the exact moment she was overcome and she cried his name, clinging tightly to him as pleasure coursed through her. James held her still with one hand on her hip as he thrust into her hard - much less gentle than their previous encounter and she was washed over with pleasure again before he stilled and stopped, his mouth finding hers before to kiss her again and again. “Elizabeth, my sweet girl,” he murmured and it made her stomach flip a little.

He was still inside her, his green eyes dark with pleasure as she stared up at him and a smile she had never even imagined on his face. She had never seen him so happy. She had never imagined her life could ever be like this. It won’t last but for now, she would enjoy it.

  
When they had been lying in each other’s arms for some time, James leaned in to nuzzle at her neck. “I imagine you breakfast in bed,” he said proving at least he did know her a little even if he did not remember wedding her. “But perhaps today you will join me?” She nodded snuggling her nose into his neck and inhaling the scent of him, even bathed there was a hint of the sea and a blend of wig and gunpowder that tickled her nose and a very male scent that just must be him.

“As you like,” she said. “But you will have to let me go so I can summon my maid or she won’t arrive to dress me for some time.”

James laughed. “A hard bargain,” he teased. “But alright.” Then he leaned into steal another kiss before he let her go and Elizabeth felt almost reluctant to leave.

  
She made her way to the dining room after being dressed by Estrella who had turned up rumpled and startled by the early hour. As if lying to her husband was not enough now she was inconveniencing her own maid. She requested her light blue silk which was a little overdone for a day at home but James had complimented her on it once - a rare occurrence - so she thought it a sensible choice.

This proved to be true as James stared at her when she enters the dining room and then down at his place setting as if self-conscious. She went to his side and brushed a kiss against his cheek. “You look lovely, Elizabeth,” James said. “Like you are dressed in sea foam,” His hand drifted to her waist as he might pull her close and then he flushed and instead moved to pull out her seat for her.

“I think this dress is a little more substantial than that,” Elizabeth said. But it was a pretty compliment and if she felt foolish to be so pleased by such a small thing it didn’t change the fact she was pleased.

  
At least breakfast occupied some time – Elizabeth had suddenly become very aware that she had no plans for her and James’ day. He had no work, she had shown him the house. The gardens were very lovely but she can’t see a tour taking long. And reading was right off the table after last night.

She could suggest that they go right back to bed and make it clear that it was nothing to do with her considering him an invalid. But they could not spend all their time being intimate. Could they? It occurred to her she could not see James objecting if she suggested it as a way of passing the time.

Before she could make such a proposition, James had his own idea for the day.

“I believe you promised me a tour of the gardens?” he said

“I did,” Elizabeth said though it had not exactly been a promise. She had no idea what James really thought of gardens. Perhaps he had an interest, they had discussions about flowers before but Elizabeth had known those conversations had been an attempt to learn about her taste in flowers. Which frankly was indifferent at best. Flowers were fine – in the garden. Any cut flower would need arranging and then would die. It seemed a foolish exercise indeed, one Elizabeth had no part in, leaving flower arrangements for the house to the housekeeper.

  
James spent more time watching her than he did looking at the gardens. They were in full bloom and rather splendid and Elizabeth attempted to take an interest plucking a single blossom with the intent of placing it in her hair. James only looked alarmed at her action and confiscated her flower. “Oleander sap will irritate your skin,” he said holding the bloom carefully so the white sap oozed to the grass.

Elizabeth knocked the flower out of his hand. “Then we don’t want any on you either,” she told him. “I thought it was only poisonous if eaten,” she admitted. “One of carriage horses ate some when we were newly arrived. Poor thing.” Elizabeth had begged them not to shoot the creature and it had been one of the few times in her childhood that her wishes had been ignored. Her father had picked her bodily up and taken her in the house but she had still heard the shot. She had not spoken to her father for three whole weeks even as he had tried to explain that it had been to lessen the animals suffering.

  
Elizabeth did not touch another flower after that. “I may not be the most attentive horticulturist,” Elizabeth admitted only for James to laugh.

“We have a gardener do we not,” he said. “A talented one from the look of it. I am well aware of your opinion of flower arrangements, Elizabeth.”

“Are you?” Elizabeth said surprised. He had never seemed to take the hints that she did not want to talk about flowers when he had been so carefully courting her.

“Yes,” James said. “I suppose my memory of Lady Bellamy’s birthday ball is a little better than yours.”

That had been just before his promotion ceremony, Elizabeth remembered. It was about all she recalled of the night. “Is that one of the last things before your memory fails?”

“No,” James said. “Well yes. But that is not why I think my recall of that night is better than yours.”

  
The ball had been held in the middle of a particularly oppressive heat wave, Elizabeth recalled, and the night of the ball had been one of the worst. A close sticky night that had followed a stifling muggy day that had had Elizabeth lie on her bed in her shift all day and send her father excuse after excuse why she could not attend the ball. None of which had worked.

Elizabeth had spent the evening wandering around scowling at any man who looked like he might ask for a dance and had cut off anyone who ignored the glare by asking for a refreshment before they could ask for a set. The more she drank the thirstier she had seemed and she did not even remember speaking to James. He had been top of her list to avoid – he was conscientious enough he would probably bring her a refreshment without being asked and then she would have no excuse to get out of a dance.

“You had had quite a lot of punch,” James said which was diplomatic of him. Elizabeth had been very drunk that night and her father had taken her home claiming he feared it was heat stroke. “And we went to take some air.” Elizabeth suddenly felt this did seem familiar and wondered what on earth she had done that she had forgotten. Perhaps she had encouraged James however inadvertently and given him reason to hope that would make even more angry about her deception.

  
“But then we were in the garden and you,” James cleared his throat, “you lay down on the grass and would not get up. You claimed you could not breathe.” James carried on. “I tried to help you to stand and you said I was not to manhandle you.”

“I see,” Elizabeth said and she should be embarrassed but James was smiling widely as he told the tale.

“Then you spotted a dandelion clock,” James said. “You were most exuberant about it. That the gardener had missed it. You told me dandelions were your very favourite flower which surprised me because you had claimed several others in previous conversations. I asked why – it was an unusual choice after all.”

  
Elizabeth suddenly had a vivid flashback to that night. She knew exactly what she had said. ‘Because no-one ever expects anyone to arrange fucking dandelions,’ she had told him. The crude language had been on purpose. To provoke him. To see what he would do and he had just stared as if he could not believe his ears. Then she had blown the dandelion clock and watched the seeds disperse as best she could when seeing double. “I believe it was because I liked blowing the clocks,” she said innocently.

“Something like that,” James said his amusement not hidden at all and Elizabeth should be embarrassed but well it had not put him off her had it.

  
“Did you take me to my father after that?” she asked and he nodded. “Poor Lady Bellamy’s gardener,” she said. “Lady Bellamy complained about dandelions in her garden all summer.”

“Your father was not very impressed with me either,” James said. “Taking you to him drunk and covered in grass stains.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said. “Of course. I am surprised we were not whisked down the aisle immediately.” Then she wonders. James had not been forced into proposing, had he? Was that why it had been so terrible. Talking about achievement and fine women. But then he seemed so keen now – not like he had proposed out of propriety.

“I had earned some trust from your father,” James said. “And no-one had seen us.”

Elizabeth looked at him then and he looked away but was worn down under her stare. “And I did not want you to feel forced into anything,” James added. “I gave him my word that I would propose and soon. I thought that it might be better received than an arrangement.”

Unconditional, Elizabeth thought a little morosely. He had wanted that so much and she could not give it to him. She could not undo what she had done. And then she was further startled when they came to a small bench and James encouraged her to sit. “I wish I could remember asking you,” he said quietly. “Or the wedding.” His hand slid down to her waist. “Or the wedding night.” Elizabeth leaned into kiss him softly.

“It will come back,” she said. “Dr Frazier said so. It is why I have to keep you in the dark. But it will be worth it when your recovery is complete.” And no doubt once it was, he would wish he could forget certain aspects of their marriage. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth discovers James is not telling her everything about his condition.

Elizabeth soon found she did not have to think of ways to entertain her husband. Nor was constant intimacy at all an issue for him. James was in fact rather insatiable and not just in bed. It had taken all of Elizabeth’s will power not to show how shocked she was the first time he had slipped his hand up her skirts when they were sitting in the garden. He had pulled her into his lap and swallowed her cries with kisses as he coaxed her to fulfilment and then bore her down to the grass to find his own pleasure between her thighs.

And it drove him quite mad that she stuck firmly to the doctor’s orders as he asked again and again. “What do you like best?”

“I like you best,” Elizabeth told him firmly blushing.

“It is not telling me the past if you express a preference,” James pointed out. They were in bed and his hands were under her shift and she knew he was doing his level best to distract her into saying something. Frankly, if she had had any preferences to express it probably would have worked. But while her books had perhaps imparted that there was more than one way to do this, she had no idea if she would like all of them.  Some of them were quite improper! But all she could think was that every way James touched her thus far had been wonderful.

 

“I know,” Elizabeth told him brightly, nipping at his neck. “Why don’t we try all the ways you like.” This suggestion had him stare for a moment. “And see if you can work out which I like best.”

It was not a quest that James took lightly.  Elizabeth found herself constantly surprised – he certainly knew more than her books and they did not convey exactly just how flexible one could be if sufficiently motivated. It had been hard not to show when his ideas scandalised her somewhat. Not all of them had been in her books and even the ones that had – reading about them was very different than doing them. Or having them done to her. Elizabeth had blushed all evening the first time James had used his mouth on her which had only convinced him that was a favourite and encouraged him to repeat the act again and again.  

Elizabeth had also with some encouragement ridden her husband to pleasure and been bent over his desk in a manner that shocked her because it had surely been wicked and yet had felt so good. His latest surprise had had him wake her in the middle of the night when she was spooned in his arms and then he rocked into her from behind slow and steady and sweet. It’s all distracting beyond belief in the moment.  But occasionally she wondered. At least some of these things they did must be improper really and James expected her to be familiar with _all_ of them. Was part of the reason he married her was that she was not so wed to propriety? Perhaps James had known her better than she thought and it hadn’t been a smart match he wanted. As a thought, it’s further depressing. It was hardly flattering to think her husband had wanted her because he expected he could get away with treating her improperly. Though it was obviously true – Elizabeth relished every moment of intimacy with James – even the improper ones. When she was with him she could not even worry anything was improper – it was all too glorious and James seemed to think her so perfect. It was only when she was alone or he was asleep after, that she worried over what his actions might mean.

 

Sometimes though James just wanted to curl up in bed and talk. He liked to pull her against him so she was spooned against him and kiss her neck and breath in the smell of her hair as he whispered sweet things in her ear.  He regretted more than not being able to remember their wedding night. He was morose he could not remember the wedding day though he was quite sure there had never been a more beautiful bride. He regretted not being able to remember his proposal though he admitted shyly how much he had prepared for asking for her hand. “And I was still quite convinced I would botch it,” he confessed the same night. They had spent several hours in each other’s arms, caught in pleasure and it was very late. “I was sure I would never find the words to tell you how much I admired you,” he said. Elizabeth made a dismissive noise that she had started using whenever James brought up the past. Although he should be used to her denial by now, he had taken her dismissal in entirely the wrong way.

“That bad, was it?” he asked.

“It was a day I will never forget,” Elizabeth said because that was true. Even if his proposal had only been part of it. She was about to tell him that was all she would say on the matter but James had pulled away from her and she turned in his arms to see hurt glimmering in his green eyes and she froze cursing her own thoughtlessness. “Oh sweetheart,” she said. “I did not mean it like that. Only that it was memorable. I did not mean I would be immune to shrapnel blows.” She pressed a gentle kiss to the healing scar on his forehead and after a moment he relaxed and held her close again.

 

* * *

 

James brooded on it though. When he had a moment alone or when she neglected him – which was not often. They had plenty of time to themselves but she did have to run the house. Occasionally he vanished into his study to read dispatches that he had argued he should be allowed. Even the things in them that had happened before his memory loss were not things he remembered so where was the harm. James was reluctant to go into society without his memories and Elizabeth had never been that keen on it anyway. Besides she knew his doting would only cause talk that was hard to avoid or explain so she was glad to agree, using his recovery as an excuse whenever they received an invite.

But she had thought some socialisation would be good and was considering inviting the Groves over – they could bring the baby. Perhaps if James had seen her attempts at being maternal – she’d been quite successful with young Groves – when the baby was calm anyway, he might be inclined to try for a child even once he had his memories back.

 

The day she had this notion and went to find James to ask his opinion of it, he was in his study. She had said she would not disturb him there but in their current state, she could not see him minding her presence. She was quite wrong. James was not working on reports or reading dispatches or doing any of the other work she assumed took place in his study. The room was dark and hot – the curtains were drawn and the only light from a low banked fire and at first, she thought perhaps he was not here after all. But then she saw him, laid out on the chaise longue. Elizabeth opened her mouth to tease him – that she had never seen him so relaxed but then she glimpsed the grimace on his face. And he was ever so pale in the dark.

“James?” she said – he flinched at her voice and she went to a whisper as she continued. “Are you well? Should I call for the doctor?”

It took him a moment to answer which only worried her more.

“No,” it was all he managed at first and then he added wearily. “He will only prescribe laudanum.”

“But should you not take it?” Elizabeth said. “If the doctor says so.”  She knelt by his side but did not dare touch him. Not when he looked so pale and drawn. Not until he reached for her hand and she was horrified to see his hand shake as he did so. If Elizabeth had felt a spark of guilt for enjoying the life his memory loss had brought before it paled to the sickening feeling threatening to overwhelm her now. She had no idea he was going through anything like this and it seemed even now she could not manage to be a good wife. “It is medicine. You should have it if you are in pain and it would help?”

 

James said nothing his jaw working fixedly and Elizabeth could not help but wonder what she had said wrongly and what he had against laudanum. It was clearly something he expected her to know. She sat there clutching his hand and wracking her brains. And all she can think of was a mention long ago – not even to her – but to her father. A comment that it was the latest vice of one of his brothers. “It is only a one off,” she said quietly. “And your condition is unusual. I promise James I would not see you become an opium eater.”

James took one deep breath and then another. Elizabeth could not bear to push. “Or at least some willow bark tea,” she said quietly, “or a posset or cherry water.”

James only looked paler and finally said quietly. “Some cherry water then,” and she knew he was only agreeing to sooth her and not for any real desire for medicine. But she did not know what else to do and she went to arrange it at once. She came back with a bowl of cool water and some cloth and did her best to bathe his forehead which he accepted with poor grace. When the cherry water came he would not drink it. “It is for you,” he said. “It will calm your nerves and I know you like it.”

Elizabeth flushed. The first time she had been dosed with cherry water – at thirteen she had had nervous spells once a week in order to have it again and drove her poor father mad with worry until she had admitted a liking for the medication. “The cloth is helping,” he said unexpectedly. “The coolness.” Elizabeth knelt by his side and bathed his forehead for half an hour or so and then realised by the steady change in his breathing that he was asleep. That could only be good, she supposed. He wouldn’t be in pain if he was asleep. She laid a fresh damp cloth on his forehead and curled up in a chair by the fire to wait for him to wake.

 

Instead, Elizabeth woke after him and found herself in his arms and he was carrying her to bed. “James, you are the one who is unwell,” she scolded firmly.

“You are the one who is going to have a crick in her neck from sleeping in an armchair,” James said. “My headache has passed. Much faster than previous ones. I can only credit your nursing.”

“As if I did anything,” Elizabeth said making him set her on her feet the instant they were in her room. “I couldn’t even get a drop of medicine in you. And cherry water doesn’t even taste medicinal.”

“Just because you like it,” James laughed and he did seem better. Elizabeth would like to say he seemed more like himself but he was so different to the husband she had known it seemed a lie even in her head. “But you were a great help,” he said solemnly. “If it should happen again I will take a cold cloth for my forehead and feel better much faster because of you.”

 

“if it should happen again you should go to your own bed not your study,” Elizabeth directed him. “And relax properly not sleep in your coat. And you shall send for me and I will bath your forehead and make you drink cherry water until you are well.”

“I see,” James said. “You are a very strict nurse then.”

“I shall be,” Elizabeth said loftily. “A very strict nurse and you do not want to find out what will happen if you defy me, James.”

“Don’t I?” James said and he was teasing she knew but she could not bear it. Was she so poor a wife he could not rely on her for anything. And that thought was a mistake because of course, she was – she was a poor wife and always had been until _now_ when he didn’t even know it. A poor wife and an unwanted one and perhaps it was telling that when his headaches are bad he did not want her near. Perhaps he was close to remembering and she finds her eyes glimmering with tears.

“No,” she said, her voice shaking a little. “You do not.” And her distress, of course, had him agreeable at once. Of course, he would summon her if had the slightest headache. Elizabeth can only hope that the headaches are a good sign. His memory returning. No matter how difficult things will be for her – she wants James whole and well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical note  
> Cherry water or cherry wine was an 18th-century treatment for fevers, melancholy, tremblings of the heart, nerves and gout(!). It involved cherries wine, sugar and cinnamon and so sounds much better than most 18th-century medicine.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion aboard ship accelerates James' recovery.

Elizabeth learned several more things about her husband after she became aware of the headaches that plagued James. Firstly, it quickly became apparent that he was a terrible patient and if she had not secured his word with tears he would never have let her nurse him at all. Not through any fault of her nursing that she could see but from a blind stubborn belief that apparently, he did not need any care or attention.

The other things she learnt from her exploration of his room while he slept. Before the memory loss she had been in here exactly twice and neither time had gone well. Now she slept in here every night. James had been away for long periods of time of course but she had always respected his privacy. Even now she did not pry overmuch. Just at things he had left out and occasionally she peeked in a couple of drawers. There was an engraved pocket watch – to mark his promotion to captaincy, a couple of old worn well read books. Several of which had inscriptions in. An engraving of a pretty dark-haired woman about Elizabeth’s age which made her burn with jealousy. It was not a new engraving though and Elizabeth wondered if James had a sweetheart of his own when he was younger. Someone it did not work out with. Perhaps some girl he fancied as a lieutenant and his rank was not enough. That seemed rather unfair. To have lost his first love and then end up in a marriage of convenience when it wasn’t what he wanted.

But she went back to the bed whenever he woke to see if he needed anything and to coax him into drinking cherry water if he was up to it. Often his head had cleared and this resulted in her being pulled in his arms and back into bed so he could prove just how well he was feeling.

The headaches worry her though for all James tried to convince her not to worry about him at all.

 

The day Elizabeth invited the Groves’ to visit was a pleasant one and she had refreshments served in the garden. It was pointless blushing about what else had taken place in the garden – it would render half the house off limits. Young Groves had a bonnet on to protect him from the sun and if he did not seem keen on it he was not objecting loudly. It did not take much to persuade him out of his mother’s arms. Luciana was a tad possessive but she did like Elizabeth and she surrendered the baby easily enough.

“There now young man,” Elizabeth said settling him in her arms. “Aren’t you handsome.” She did not have to look to see if James was watching her. She knew he was. “I can’t believe how much he has grown.” She told his mother as the baby blinked up at her.

“He is like a weed,” the lieutenant said proudly. “Aren’t you Jamie lad?” Jamie peered up at his father then and Elizabeth tried not to show her surprise at the name. Luciana had planned to name him Theo pending her husband’s approval and she had not foreseen the lieutenant objecting to a namesake.

“We thought we would name him for his godfather,” Luciana explained. “And he is not a weed, Theo – stop saying that.”

Theo ignored the scold and added. “Well, we thought you better have a namesake, sir, seeing as Frazier thinks the brain fever might carry you off any day.” James snorted at this and Luciana was appalled.

“Theo! You must not say such things.”

“James knows I don’t mean it,” Theo said. “Lord what does a small gap in one’s memory mean anyway. There are dozens of nights I don’t recall. Am I about to keel over? I say we tell James his missing years and have done with.”

 

James looked entirely too tempted by this notion and for a moment Elizabeth wondered what that would be like. It could mean this was her life forever and for a moment she was hopeful. But then she thinks of the headaches. The doctor was not wrong that the memory loss affected James. There are times James could do nothing but lay abed with a cold cloth and that would end his career. So, she pushed the thought away. It would have to involve a much more deliberate set of lies as well, if she was to keep this life and she knew she owed James more than that. She would have to invent an entire happy marriage and that lie she could not blame on the doctor’s advice.

“Some men actually take doctor’s advice,” Luciana said sounding a little exasperated. Elizabeth could not imagine her husband willingly listened to the doctor any more than James did.

“Perhaps they do,” Theo said. “But a year ago the Commodore led an action with a barely bandaged bullet wound and lost near half his blood so he is not one of them.”

“I am also present,” James said rather mildly as if he did not mind being the topic of conversation when Elizabeth knew he hated it. “Where was that engagement at?” His tone of voice was dreadfully casual but Elizabeth was not fooled for a moment. 

“Stop it,” Elizabeth said. “If it was a year ago – it is not to be spoken of and you both know it.” She was holding the baby too tight in her panic and he began to fuss. “You are both setting a terrible example for Jamie.” She said bouncing him a little. But deep down she was horrified that James was in such an engagement and was injured so and she didn’t even know about it. She thought of the scars she had inspected and there had been one clear bullet wound. But Jamie doesn’t calm and Elizabeth surrenders him to his mother feeling foolish.

 

But they have tea and it was a pleasant afternoon, Luciana was very admiring of the gardens and asked Elizabeth several questions about the flowers. All of which Elizabeth was completely unable to answer. James seemed to find this amusing and offered Luciana his arm for a tour which leaves Elizabeth a chance to fuss over the baby again while his father made his way determinedly through the sweet selection and they sat in awkward silence. Lieutenant Groves had never seemed as disapproving as some of the other officers but then he was more genial in general. It didn’t mean anything in particular. And he surprised her by asking quite tactlessly. “Do you really think that Frazier’s advice will work? How can living a life completely unlike his help James remember?” It was a fair point, Elizabeth must concede. The doctor had never said she must pretend as she did – she could have told James they had a marriage of convenience.

“It wasn’t living a lie the doctor recommended,” Elizabeth said. “He only forbade us telling James of his life.” It was her who had done this – not the doctor. But then she could never have followed the doctor’s other advice – not that she intended to discuss _that_ with the lieutenant. “And then I have tried to be a good wife and here we are.” This seemed to mollify the lieutenant somewhat and he tickled his son under his chin making him laugh.

“I am not trying to scold,” Theo said with a shrug and Elizabeth nearly thought that was an end to that conversation but just before James and Luciana return – Luciana clutching several blooms (none poisonous ones Elizabeth presumed) Theo had to add in his offhand tactless way. “I suppose it is merely a shame it hadn’t occurred to you to try being a good wife earlier in your marriage.” And then he was off to scold James for giving flowers to _his_ wife leaving Elizabeth stung and unable to answer that last remark and to focus her attention on young Jamie so that no-one would see her expression.

 

That night when the Groves are gone – James fussed over her. She had been somewhat subdued for the rest of the visit which James misinterpreted entirely. “You were very good with the baby,” he said. “I am sure we will have happy news soon.”

Elizabeth cannot be so confident. She wanted James to be well but if she was not with child by the time he was recovered. Well. Who knew if it would ever happen. And even if she were it won’t make matters less awkward. Not once he remembered. But she could not tell him that so she teased him instead and suggested.  “Perhaps you will have to stay on land until we do.”

“I will certainly try,” James said laughing and it seemed incredibly sweet until he added. “Perhaps even when I remember I will claim my memory is gone until you are swelling with child.” Elizabeth had to smile at that even though it was obviously not would happen in such a situation.

 

They next see the Groves at the christening of their son – somewhat belated of course but as they have chosen to have Jamie christened on the Dauntless out of the Ship’s bell, they had to wait until some of the repairs were complete. Not that the ship’s chaplain would make half the fuss of the local pastor about the delay. And it was a lovely day and Jamie mostly behaved through the ceremony only wailing a little when the holy water was poured over his head. Afterwards, James and Elizabeth walked the deck's arm in arm and it was nice. Elizabeth could see where some of the rails had been replaced and she morbidly wondered where the piece that had struck James had come from. Some of the other officers are eying them somewhat askance and suddenly Lieutenant Groves seemed quite discrete by comparison.

 

“While we are aboard,” James said, “there was something I wanted to ask you about.”

“Yes?” she said and he guided her to his cabin looking a little bashful even though it was a perfectly reasonable action. Elizabeth was just glad to get away from Lieutenant Gillette’s glare.

“I told you before that Doctor Frazier took away my logs,” James said. “But that was not the only clue to my previous life – he tried to take any letters I had but I refused and they were straight forward enough.” Elizabeth suddenly felt both embarrassed and glad she had laboured over making her letters proper and yet surely they would have seemed odd to him. Stiff and formal compared to the life they have had since he arrived back. “But I have to admit I could not think of a reason for this.” He shows her to a trunk that had been placed on his desk and opened it for her. It contains the oddest collection of things.

A sextant and a spyglass and a book on navigation. A rather splendid dragon carved out of smooth green stone, a collection of jars with various spices and oils. A parcel of drawings of the sea and islands and birds and the top one of a whale breeching startle her when she sees his initials on it. She had no idea he drew. There are bits of jewellery too – not fancy things but plainer carved things – shells and sand dollars. Things sailors wore for luck.

Something from nearly every destination he’s been too she imagined. Or at least close too. He’d bought her something in every port and never given her a single item.  “I can only imagine that I bought these for you,” he said. “But why have I not given them too you – these aren’t all from my latest voyage.” Elizabeth only felt horrified – there was no way she could explain that though James was not quite done.

 

At the bottom of the chest was a familiar coat – the red material showing up his collection. She reached for it unthinking. “Well, perhaps that is not for you,” James said in a forced jolly tone.

“Not for me,” she said. “I had occasion to wear it once.” She had wondered what happened to the uniform – she had wanted to keep it but her father had forbidden it and then it had been taken to be laundered and vanished. “James, I cannot explain this. Not because of the rules – I had no idea you had any of these things.” Well except the coat. And that she did not want to.

“But surely you would expect me to bring you something back,” James said. “Was I such a poor husband?”

“No,” Elizabeth said quietly. “But I may – I fear I have exaggerated how good a wife I am, James.”

“How could you be anything but a perfect wife?” said James sounding so astonished that it made her stomach flip.

“I think we should go home,” Elizabeth said. She cannot have this conversation here.

 

And in the end, she did not have to have the conversation at all. Nor get to go home with James at all. He was summoned by Lieutenant Gillette and Elizabeth rode home alone in the carriage to wait and pace and think just exactly what she was going to say when he got home.   

When he arrived back, he had the chest of presents and a perturbed look. Elizabeth could only imagine what Gillette had been saying now.

“I suppose it is not to be mentioned,” he said. “Why you needed a uniform?”

Elizabeth paused. “Not under the rules,” she said. “But I do not think that was having the effect the doctor wanted.” She hesitated. “I was kidnapped by pirates and you, of course, rescued me,” with help from her signal fire of course but it was not as if she could give him a full explanation. “But I had no suitable clothes.”

 

James hardly seemed to be listening to her explanation – he looked horrified. Of course, he would be horrified that she had been kidnapped. Even the James who did not like her seemed to blame himself for her experience.   “Pirates?” he said quietly and then she could almost see it happen. A sudden dawning on his face and he stepped back from her and whatever he might have said was lost as he trembled and then suddenly was on his knees clutching at his head.

“James,” Elizabeth said panicked. “Shall I fetch the doctor.” She reached for him.

“Don’t touch me,” James said in a low voice. “Don’t come near me.” And when he looked at her it was like looking at a stranger.

“Are you in pain?” Elizabeth asked trying to hide her panic. “I’ll send for the doctor at once,” she said going to him. “Perhaps you should lie down?”

“No,” James said quietly. Formally. He was as distant as he had ever been. “No, I am not in need of medical attention.” He stood and he was still almost shaking. “In fact, I am quite recovered. You may drop the act Elizabeth. I do not need a nursemaid. Or for you to pretend you care any longer.”  He left then his gait unsteady -to his study, she supposed, where he had always avoided her and Elizabeth was left in the hall feeling a fool with the chest full of presents.

Elizabeth took a moment to compose herself. Then she sent a footman out to fetch the doctor – no matter what James said he was not fully recovered even he had his memory back. He had been near shaking. Her only comfort was that surely that would be temporary. The doctor had said he would recover if he had his memory back and at least that was something. At least James would be well. Even if he loathed her.  It hardly matters if sending for the doctor against his instructions angered him. It was not as if she had any regard of his to lose.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Elizabeth talk. It doesn't help.

Elizabeth did not see James properly for three days after the return of his memory. When Doctor Frazier had arrived there had been an almighty row. Elizabeth had not been able to make out what James had been shouting about as she made the mistake of staying downstairs. On his way out, Doctor Frazier had been very polite indeed, which had seemed a surprise but then he had complimented her nursing and care of James so Elizabeth had assumed he was mocking her. It seemed more likely than any of man who served under her husband’s command thinking well of her.

But then James spent the next two days in bed with head pains and Elizabeth took him at his word that her nursing would not be wanted. He also gave an order through the Housekeeper to tell all staff that the doctor was not to be sent for again which was certainly a pointed message meant for her.  Though she fretted over him as best she could from a distance and on the second night snuck through when he was sleeping. He looked pale and uncomfortable but his breathing was steady. She considered fetching a cool cloth for his brow but he stirred and she retreated trying to convince herself he did not deserve her care. The third day, however, he must have improved because he was up and at the fort before Elizabeth even woke. This at least was familiar.

 

Elizabeth was disinclined to stir from her chamber on those days and face the staff who no doubt had much to gossip over after James’ reaction. But by midday on the third day Elizabeth had decided she was not going to hide. She had done nothing wrong. Besides she was bored stiff. Instead, she went along to what had been her sitting room. Of course now, everywhere she looked there were reminders of James’ presence and Elizabeth could not help feeling irritated by everything that was a sign of the times James had spent with her. Books more to their mutual taste, a note – to James from _her_ father. Which irritated her more as she suddenly felt possessive. A discarded cravat from a night they had dressed formally for dinner and Elizabeth had sat on his lap after and done her best to unravel James entirely – by that point she had known a bit more how to. She had undone the cravat to kiss at a point on his neck that was particularly sensitive and they had quit the room shortly after that. There was even a new bottle of brandy, a vintage he favoured.

That at least was easy to be rid of and Elizabeth poured herself a large snifter of it. Then another. The books she returned to the library and in a fit of spite deliberately scattered them across the shelves in complete disregard of the careful order James had the books arranged in.

 

Now she only had the note and the cravat. And the brandy which she drank some of until it seemed like a good idea to light a fire in the grate and remove them permanently from _her_ parlour.

It took Elizabeth an age to get a fire started. She could have rung for someone but the longer it took her the more determined she was to do it herself. And it was a rather pathetic fire, in the end, considering she had ruined her dress and covered her hands in soot to produce it. The note burnt easily enough and then the cravat went up in smoke that made her cough and nearly smothered the fire until she poked it with the poker until the fire went out but at least the cravat was, if not entirely gone certainly unrecognisable.

Then she had some more brandy and told herself it was perfectly reasonable to hold James accountable that the room now smelt of burnt silk. She curled up on the chaise lounge feeling rather despondent. He had even spoiled her romance books. They had seemed perfectly entertaining before she knew what it was _really_ like to be loved. Now they just seemed a taunt. And not at all close to how it had actually felt when James had loved her. So, Elizabeth had a little more brandy. And then a little more. Then she curled up with the blanket to have a little rest heedless of the soot stains, she was leaving on the furniture.

 

Elizabeth was rarely woken by anyone else when she slept in this parlour so she didn’t expect it when a hand on her shoulder startled her out of slumber. She certainly didn’t expect it to be James. And not content with waking her he was prodding at her and examining her hands and even lifting her skirts just a little to see her bare ankles. “What are you doing?” she asked irately. This was her sitting room. If she wasn’t to pretend he shouldn’t either. “Keep your hands to yourself,” she added. “If I am not to come near you, you can do me the same courtesy.”

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt,” James said. “I fear you have caught your dress in the fire.”

“Oh that,” Elizabeth said. “I am not burnt – it was not my dress that was in the fire.” It seemed foolish and petty to save she had burnt the cravat just to not have any reminders of him present. But James didn’t ask for an explanation.

“I see,” James said. “That is a relief. I would like to apologise if I may for my behaviour. The return of my memory was a shock but it does not excuse the way I spoke to you.”  

“It doesn’t matter,” Elizabeth said. “I would rather know how you really feel.” The words are out before she could think it through and while James said nothing in retort she could feel the weight of his stare. “I know I did not do you the same courtesy,” she managed finally. “But I was following the directions Dr Frazier gave. I wanted you to get well.”

“And I am grateful,” James said. “It was very dedicated of you.” And for a moment Elizabeth felt hopeful until he added. “It was quite the act.”

 

Elizabeth wished it had been. That she did not feel the loss of him even as he was before her. But she was not going to say so and be mocked for her feelings. “I have many unappreciated talents,” she said shortly. “But your apology is accepted. You can leave me in peace.” She just wanted him to go away and instead, James still had hold of her which she did not appreciate either and she pushed him away.

“I was only taking you to bed,” he said. “Let you sleep off this brandy – that lounge cannot be comfortable.”

“It is,” Elizabeth said, determined to contrary. “I sleep here all the time,” James surprised her by seizing her hand and seeming more interested in that than anything else.

“Do you?” he said and she did not know what he wanted now. “All night?”

“Sometimes,” Elizabeth said confused. “As if you have any interest in where I sleep, I am perfectly capable of taking myself to bed.” And she wrestled herself out of his arms and quit the room only stumbling a little from the brandy.

 

She did not go to dinner that night but Estrella brought her a tray which she picked at until there was a knock at the adjoining door. She considered ignoring it, ignoring him. But what would be the point? “Forgive me,” James said not moving from the doorway. “I wanted to see if you were feeling any better.”

“I have been quite well all day,” she said coldly.

“That’s good,” James said and that at least sounded sincere. “I wanted to ask something.” He seemed awkward so Elizabeth assumed it would be something else insulting. “I was afflicted with memory loss for some time,” James said as if she did not know. As if she had not counted every day as a treat and yet worried over the time it had gone on. She ignored the statement as pointless. It had been one month of happiness in her entire marriage.

 

“Did Doctor Frazier give you a clean bill of health?” she asked instead. “Can you remember everything?” It was foolish and he would probably think it more of her act – but she wanted to know.

“Yes,” he said. “I have no gaps and that should mean a full recovery.” He did not mention the headache immediately after the return and so Elizabeth would have to settle for taking his word.

“It was actually your health I wished to enquire after.” he said.

“I am perfectly fine,” Elizabeth said. As if being kind to him was such a hardship it might make her ill.

“I only meant – we did discuss,” James seemed to struggle with it and she did not take his meaning until he spelt it out entirely “Do you think there is the possibility of a child?”

Elizabeth had rather foolishly not considered what he was asking – they had had an uninterrupted month but she had not let herself get hopeful – her cycle had never been that regular. But rather than consider it at all she found herself denying it. “No,” she said. “There are no signs.” She did not want him to dance attendance on her hoping for a child when he clearly would otherwise avoid her.

“Well at least that is a relief,” James said quietly, leaving her yet further insulted. “I am sure it was a worry for you.”

 

“Is that what you think?” Elizabeth said unable to hold back her temper. “God forbid I would want a child. How unthinkable.” James blinked at her and she wanted to hear no more of his justification for why he thought even less of her than she had thought.

“I did not think you would want a child fathered by me,” James said stiffly and he had the temerity to look hurt even as he insulted her.

“Oh is there another option?” Elizabeth said coldly and James hesitated which only confused her more.  

“I did not know,” he said finally. “That you were sleeping in your parlour – only that you were spending your nights elsewhere.” Elizabeth was flabbergasted by that assumption and outraged besides. Had he been checking on her while she slept? Even while he hated her? And assuming she was having some sort of affair and if that were not enough of an insult he compounded the whole matter by adding. “Your attitude to intimacy had certainly altered.”

Elizabeth threw the dinner tray at him. She missed in her temper and splattered the remnants of cold chicken and buttered vegetables all over the wall and floor and all that hit James was an odd sprinkling of gravy. He did not even blink or look at all ashamed. “Get out,” she said furiously. “Get out and stay out. I wish I had told you I wanted nothing to do with you and not let you touch me at all not matter what Frazier said about blood flow.” James thankfully went and Elizabeth curled up the window seat and determinedly ignored the poor young kitchen maid James had sent up to clear up the mess and only when the maid finally left did she let herself cry.

 

When Elizabeth went to bed that night, she first found the key she had been given shortly after their marriage and locked the adjoining door. James could keep his prying to himself from now on. And his insulting words. Perhaps she should take a lover. That would show him but the thought of subjecting herself to another man’s idiocy was hardly appealing. Besides – it would not help. She wanted her husband for all the good it did her.

She lay awake half of the night and then was woken by Estrella the next morning. James had requested her presence at breakfast. What did he want now Elizabeth wondered. “Tell him I’m not hungry,” Elizabeth said and pressed her face into her pillow. Estrella returned a while later this time carrying the chest of presents and trinkets.

“The Commodore hopes you feel better soon,” Estrella started outraging Elizabeth because now he was assuming she was hungover because she did not want his company? “This has been in the hall since his recovery – he said it belonged to you.”

“It does not,” Elizabeth said and then because it was not fair to make Estrella be a go between she said rather ungraciously. “But you can set it down I will tell him so myself.”

The instant she had dismissed Estrella, Elizabeth unlocked the door and shoved the chest of trinkets into James’ room and then relocked the door. He could keep his duty presents.

 

James returned them later that evening looking entirely awkward. “They are for you,” he said standing in the door to her room from the hall.

“If I had not seen them,” Elizabeth said determinedly making out like she was not looking up from her book and turning her head just enough to see his expression in her dresser mirror, “when you were afflicted – would you have presented them to me.”

His silence was all the answer she needed. “I don’t need presents,” she said. “You can present them to the woman you keep a picture of if you like.”

“I do not think my sister would appreciate them,” James said with a hint of a smile and Elizabeth made the mistake of looking up at him and perhaps letting some of her relief show without meaning to.

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“May I come in?” he said, Elizabeth shrugged and he stepped hesitantly into the room. “I am sorry I misread the situation so appallingly,” James said. “But I wanted to ask what you meant – about blood flow?”

“It was what Dr Frazier said,” Elizabeth said. “His two elements of advice, don’t tell you your memories and see to your physical satisfaction because the increased blood flow would help the brain fever or some other such nonsense.”

 

James looked furious and Elizabeth could not help but be taken aback. “Did he tell you something different?” she asked confused and James’ silence was answer enough. Why should that help a head problem? Frazier had made it up. “No doubt given all your officers think I am a terrible wife, he thought it was an excellent opportunity to force me to do my duty.”

“My officers think what?” James said and Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

“They all glare at me,” she said. “Theo Groves told me to my face I am a poor wife.” She took a shuddering breath. “I can only assume you have made your poor opinion of me clear to everyone. Did you know when you arrived back this time they left me standing on the docks for nearly two hours before someone came and told me you were injured while I wondered over you and feared the worst and worried.” She did not look at him now. “I didn’t know why you thought I was so terrible until you said about where I slept. I have tried you know. I kept my word. I have run your house and supported your career and I would share your bed but you rejected me. I attend parties. I do nothing. Not a single thing that attracts a word of gossip. I have never overrun my allowance. I do not read even anything you would deem inappropriate. I go to every stupid tea party and ball. I dress the part.” She had tried everything she could think of to improve his opinion of her. To make it easier for them to rub along together to no effect.

“I do not have a poor opinion of you. I have never made any complaint of you to my men,” James said. “I would never. Our marriage is none of their concern. But I am very sorry that happened, Elizabeth.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “But if you do not complain of me – why do they hate me so.”

“They do not hate you,” James said but at her look, he was forced to admit. “But perhaps there is some lingering resentment over what you asked for as a wedding gift. And the consequences.”

 

Elizabeth felt her cheeks burn. She knew men had died that day. “It was not your fault,” James added suddenly. “I made the decision. It was my responsibility and there are dangers in the service and if we had not faced them that day I doubt the crew of Black Pearl would have hesitated to make their presence known. As elusive as Jack Sparrow has been he is a lot less blood thirsty than Captain Barbossa. And I would tolerate no disrespect towards you. Ever. I will deal with Frazier and Groves. And anyone else who has said anything or made you feel uncomfortable. If I had known -”

“Please don’t,” Elizabeth said. “It would only lower their opinion of me more – and Groves didn’t even mean it as an insult – he was being his usual tactless self. He doesn’t seem to mind me.”

“Alright,” James said. “But if you do not want me to defend you Elizabeth – what do you want?”

“I want it to be like it was,” she said almost unthinkingly. But at least it was honest.

James drew back. “I think that would be simplest,” he said formally. “But please keep the presents. I did buy them for you even if I never had the wits to actually give them to you.”

That had not been what Elizabeth meant. She did not mean the way their marriage had been all along – she had wanted it to be the way it had been when he did not remember.  But having been honest once and having had it fail, she merely nodded and James excused himself and left her alone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth gets some answers from the doctor. James continues to confuse her.

Elizabeth found that going back to the way things had been was more difficult than she anticipated. She had been lonely before but she hadn’t known what it was like to be loved. Not that James had _truly_ loved her in the time she could not help but miss, she reminded herself repeatedly. It had all been a delusion. And a bittersweet reminder that he might have loved her once.

If that were not bad enough, she now knew for absolute certain that James did not want a child with her ruining the one thing she had thought she might be able to offer him. And wanted for herself. But James had been relieved she was not with child when he had thought to ask about it. Elizabeth had not been as certain as she made out to James when he asked at first but her course had come within a week or two. Just when she was starting to wonder if perhaps she was going to have to tell James that she had lied about her certainty. But she did not have to have a further awkward conversation with the husband who disdained her. She could only imagine how he would have taken that news. Probably by counting the days and wondering _where_ she had slept and if it was even _his_ considering how faithless he thought her. No, Elizabeth was not with child nor ever likely to be. James would rather he had no child or heir than one with her and it was not as if he lacked for family.

 

The chest of gifts had remained in her room after their latest discussion. Elizabeth had pushed into a corner and left it. She was tempted every now and again to at least have a look through but it seemed pointless. James could have bought her everything she ever wanted and it would still be ruined by the presentation of it. It seemed hard to contemplate any enjoyment in the gifts given the circumstance. There was no enjoyment to be had in her marriage at all. Worse now that James was well they were forced to return to society and Elizabeth found herself dreading it. At least in the house, she could mostly avoid him.

The day of the first ball they have accepted an invite too, Elizabeth felt sick all day. It was silly, she told herself again and again. It would be like it was before. James would be distant but polite. They might share one dance. Elizabeth would sit with someone else at supper as was proper as yet another of the ridiculous rules of the society prohibited spouses sitting together. Today she could be grateful for it, at least then she might have someone to talk to instead of sitting in awkward silence with James as they did at dinner each night now.

 

She should probably have acquired something new to wear – no doubt the gossips of Port Royal will have much to say if she was not in the latest fashion but no doubt there would be plenty of talk about her and James anyway given his illness and their absence from society. Elizabeth chose a gown of coral silk that she had never worn out. The coral silk that had looked very pretty and delicate on a roll in the haberdashery was rather more eye catching in a dress. When Elizabeth had tried it on Luciana had stared and eventually declared it a very _cheerful_ ensemble. When Luciana had to struggle to say something nice that was a definite sign it was awful. But it was fashionably cut and besides, it made one thing about tonight a little easier. If James offered her a compliment on this dress she would not have to worry about his meaning and if he was only being proper. Obviously, if he had anything remotely positive to say about this dress then he would quite clearly be lying.

 

James said nothing in the coach and very little during part of the ball they mingled together. He did not ask her for a set of dances – nor did he dance with anyone else. And while he put a good face on it, she knew every enquiry over his health and comment about how well he looked was irritating him beyond belief. She could see his jaw clench at each comment though of course, he was nothing but polite in return.

 

As an evening, it was nearly tolerable until at supper Elizabeth found herself sat between Doctor Frazier and Lieutenant Gillette. So much for having some conversation then though Lieutenant Gillette was rude enough to ignore her entirely and focus on his neighbour on his other side leaving Elizabeth to make small talk with the doctor who humiliated her entirely. But when the last course was cleared and the diners began to move Doctor Frazier surprised her. “Mrs Norrington may have I have a word?” before she could leave and Elizabeth had no polite reason to refuse. She could think of several impolite reasons but she restrained herself. She was startled by his words though “You must allow me to offer you an apology.” Frazier said quietly. “For the  . . . extraneous portion of my medical advice. I did not intend to upset you.”

“Must I?” Elizabeth answered. She did not see why she must. Extraneous indeed! As If that covers what he said to her. And it was all the worse because it had all been lies – to force her to be the good wife that James fellow officers clearly do not consider her.

“I meant it for the best,” Frazier continued quietly. “I said it would help the Commodore recover and I meant it – if not perhaps in the way I conveyed to you.” He did now have the decency to look ashamed of himself. “Your husband is perhaps the most difficult patient I have dealt with in a career that has specialised in treating men more used to giving orders than taking them – even from a physician. The other men I can deal with as there are standing orders from your husband that they listen. Advice he has never once taken for himself. And his condition was frustrating of course. It was only by the narrowest margin I managed to prevent him ordering his history told to him. At sea. When I was there – I was sure he would interfere with the treatment the instance he was unsupervised and then it occurred to me. He has always been so besotted with you. Even without his memories, I thought perhaps he would listen to you and if not well what better distraction than a pretty young wife.”

 

Clearly a pretty young _eager_ wife, Elizabeth thought still resentful. It did not help entirely but she was a little less insulted that it had not been done to force her to be a better wife as she had initially thought before but then his explanation sunk in.  “Besotted?” she said incredulously. And then flushed as the doctor looked at her oddly.

“Yes,” he said awkwardly. “He is quite devoted.” And he clearly thought her idiotic for not thinking so as well.

“I did not think he would be so plain with his feelings when at duty,” Elizabeth attempted.

“Well I don’t only see him at duty,” the doctor advised and he glanced down the table – Elizabeth followed his gaze to see James staring at them only to redirect his attention to his wine glass when he saw her looking and Elizabeth decided to agree if only to end this conversation. “I accept your apology Doctor – thank you for all your help with the Commodore’s recovery.” Then she quit the conversation, the table and followed the others of the party who had moved to the drawing room.

 

Miss Brown had commandeered the piano and Elizabeth offered to turn the pages for her thereby saving herself from any further conversation with either her husband or anyone else who had commentary on her marriage. Thankfully her father had been away for most of this entire incident or no doubt he would have much to say on the matter. She spent the rest of the evening there turning the pages for the mostly single girls determined to demonstrate their musical skills and refusing to take a turn playing herself. She was relieved when James finally came to tell her he had called for their carriage but also slightly baffled. James never danced attendance on her at parties – it would not be proper – he leaves her to mingle with the other wives of Port Royal society and he – well Elizabeth had always paid very little attention to what James did in the past. But tonight, she did pay attention and every time she picked him out of the crowd in his best dress uniform he had been watching her. But the only words he spoke to her on the way home were to confirm that the physician had apologised for his behaviour.

 

It was not the only time Elizabeth caught him at it, now she was looking for it. She saw him at the window when she read in the garden. He hardly spoke to her at meals but whenever she was looking at her plate if she glanced up and could catch him unawares, he was staring at her. At the next event they attend, one where Elizabeth was horrified to see half the debutants of Port Royal dressed in coral – rather hard on the eyes, James he barely spoke to her but he would stare at her as long as he could do it from the other side of someone elses ballroom.

Even at home when Elizabeth spent her evenings curled up on her chaise reading and resenting the fact her books were no longer as entertaining he seemed to wander past the doorway several times every evening. Perhaps he did want her then though why did he never say so? What did he want?

One-night Elizabeth even called out the third time she saw him wander past. “James?” he came to the door and looked ever so wary that she felt ridiculous for considering inviting him to sit with her. “Would you like some company?” she said awkwardly, “I would. I would like that.” She felt utterly foolish – why could she not just say she had missed him. But that stuck in her throat and she felt glad she had not said it when after a long moment standing in the doorway James shook his head.

“I have a report to finish,” he said. “Perhaps another time.” That was clearly an attempt to let her down gently and Elizabeth spent the whole night in a huff feeling foolish that she had even tried.

 

Three days after that, James did join her one evening and despite her temper, with him, Elizabeth could not help but feel a burst of hope. Until he made it clear while he was there. “The Dauntless will be sailing the day after tomorrow,” he said surprising her. “I know you have said you feel disapproved of – that you feel the men of my command disrespect you. I want to assure you again I would never allow that. No-one speaks ill of you. Ever. But if you are still uncomfortable,” he paused. “You need not come to see the ship off. I cannot discipline men for their thoughts but I would not have you uncomfortable.”  

Elizabeth wondered just how long he’d known about this tour. He hadn’t had only two days’ notice of an order to sail. “Of course, I will come to see you off,” she said. “I am not afraid of being glared at – if I was I could not go anywhere.”

James left her in peace then and Elizabeth curled up and wondered about that – did he not even want to be seen with her now. Well tough – she was his wife. She would not be put off.

 

The night before he sailed though, Elizabeth had another notion. Another attempt that if it went wrong would at least not seem so embarrassing with James gone for months. She would go to his room wearing a pretty nightgown and say if he did not want her on the docks waving him off perhaps he might prefer a private farewell instead.

It seemed a perfectly sound plan but when she unlocked the adjoining door and slipped through she found his bed empty. At first, she was outraged – the hypocrite! Where was he sleeping then? But then she paid a little more attention – it was not just the bed that was empty – the whole room was. His books and belongings were gone, he must have moved to one of the other rooms in the house. Well, she was not going searching for him in her shift. That would rather undermine her attempt to proposition him casually. She went to bed huffy and slept poorly.

 

“I hope I am not to jump to the same conclusions you did with an empty bed,” she said to him in the carriage to the docks.

James looked surprised. “I have taken a different room,” he said. “I thought perhaps you slept in the parlour because – you did not like being in such close proximity to me. I thought you might prefer if I was further away.”

“Very thoughtful,” Elizabeth said coolly because she was not such an idiot she could not see that as nonsense. “Though it would have been more thoughtful if you had mentioned it – how can I be reassured my husband sleeps at a distance if he does not even tell me of it.”

“I rather assumed that you’d notice the next time you attempted to return your gifts,” James said.

“I have kept them,” Elizabeth said. “Though if you are expecting them back I’ll arrange it while you are away.”

James said nothing – as if to prove her point. But then after a long pause. “I am not expecting anything, Elizabeth,” he said. “I never have. It rather seems for the best not to.” And then they arrive and Elizabeth not even had a chance to demand just what he meant by that as there are too many officers and family come to see them off.

But she did get to surprise James with a last-minute thought that had just come to her. She flung her arms around him. “Do try not to get hurt James,” she said urgently. “And if you do get hurt - listen to the doctor! I want you to come home. I will even keep the gifts if you promise to come back safe.”

James looked entirely astonished by this – by the oddness of the bargain in which she would keep presents for his cooperation or just at her asking him to be safe in the first place or some combination of both and he did not even answer out loud at first but he did nod an agreement. And Elizabeth sealed the bargain by kissing him rather improperly in front of everyone. She had meant to prove a point but nearly the instance her lips touched his she melted into his arms right there on the dock. She had missed this so much and he surprised her by pulling her close instead of pushing her away and when she reluctantly broke the kiss he buried his face in her hair inhaling the scent of her and rumpling her neat curls. “I promise I will do everything in my power to come home safe,” James said and Elizabeth smiled up at him. Of course, he would not promise the other – it was too much of a lie to deny the dangers of his profession. But even that is more of an agreement than she ever dreamed of winning from him.  She stayed on the dock long after the Dauntless had sailed watching the great ship until it slipped from sight and feeling strangely hopeful.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth makes plans while James is at sea. It doesn't go exactly to plan when he is home but progress is made.

Elizabeth found it rather odd that it was a little easier when James was gone. She missed him still of course but it was reasonable to miss someone who wasn’t there. Rather than missing a husband who was perfectly present but who wanted nothing to do with her. Not that that was the case, she knew now. He just didn’t expect anything from her. He didn’t dare come near her in case she thought he was expecting something.  Of course, sometimes she was angry with him. Didn’t expect anything – what kind of talk was that. What had she done that was so bad he had just given up on her.  When he came back she decided. She would ask him. They had been dancing around each other for two years and where had that gotten them? Nowhere.

But she could not help but think of him – even if she had not missed him, she dreamed of him most nights. Of his teasing - about her French novels or her habit of leaving books everywhere. Of walking with him in the gardens. Of going to sleep curled in his arms and waking to find him watching her – that had happened most mornings. And often her dreams were embarrassingly vivid recollections of the other activities they had shared in bed and elsewhere in the house. Then she would wake restless and wanting and wishing James was home. Not that she would be any more satisfied if he was here, of course, given his avoidance of her.

 

Her dreams and memories of the brief happy period of their marriage were not the only reminders she had of her husband. Elizabeth had finally agreed to keep the collection of gifts in exchange for his promise to actually take care of himself. Part of her had briefly considered keeping the gifts until James was safely home. It could be pleasant, she thought. She could insist if he wanted her to have them that he explain what they are and where he got them. Her resolve lasted three whole days.  What if he didn’t want that – what if he took that as her not believing his promise. She knew James would keep his word. He always had.

And of course, she had already been mad with curiosity over the present’s and resisting it even before he had left. She decided she will take one thing out of the chest every day until there was nothing left or James came home. She set the green dragon statue on her dresser where it caught the sun and showed off the fine workmanship. It was an ornament of course, but at least it was an interesting one.

 

The second day she took a drawing, the one of the whale breaching. It was very good and after examining it thoroughly, Elizabeth cheated a little and looked through a few more drawings and picked her favourites to pin above her dresser. The third day she had had enough of being sensible and seized the spy glass and then spent most of the morning at one window of the house or another. She had a view of the sea from her window and with the spy glass, she had a much better one. And in the afternoon, she set out on a walk to see what other views she could see in more detail.

She chose the book of navigation on the fourth day – she had an invite to visit Luciana and young Jamie and she may not get a chance to read it but tomorrow she will choose the sextant and that should keep her occupied for some time.

Luciana was a little troubled though when she arrived. Jamie was cutting his first tooth apparently and had spent the whole night screaming about it. Luciana looked exhausted and Jamie was down to a quiet whimpering and kicking miserably in his mother’s arms. They both looked exhausted.

“The nurse says I should just put him down and let him cry himself to sleep,” Luciana said. “But I cannot bear the notion,” she cradled Jamie close. “I even rubbed whisky on his gums because she said so but it only made him cry more.” Jamie crumpled his face a little more and shoved one hand in his mouth making an unhappy noise.

“I think if your nurse cannot follow directions you should dismiss her and hire a new one,” Elizabeth said, looking down at Jamie’s red angry face. “And you should try rum – he might object to the taste less.” Some of the cheaper rums tasted of nothing but sugar and she could not imagine a baby objecting to that as he might whisky.

“I think I would try anything,” Luciana said bouncing Jamie and Elizabeth fetched a bottle of rum and helped as best she could. It only seemed to make Jamie crosser and until he calmed enough to nurse and finally fall asleep in Luciana’s arms. “Oh, you are a godsend,” Luciana said laying back on the couch and settling Jamie carefully.

“I am sure he would have had to give in eventually,” Elizabeth said. “But I think I will excuse myself and let you get some sleep while you can.” Luciana protested, of course, it would be the height of rudeness to expect Elizabeth to leave after _helping_ but as well-mannered as she was – the protests were very half-hearted.

 

Elizabeth spent the afternoon reading instead and the next day practising with the sextant on a false horizon she had set up in the garden with a washbasin filled with water and oil. None of her calculations made sense and she was quite frustrated until she realised the sextant mirrors were out of alignment. It would, of course, be much more interesting to be taking sights at sea but there was no reason she could not go out at along the coast at dusk or dawn and take sights using the actual horizon which would be more interesting than calculating the latitude of the garden anyway. Well, a little.  She knew where Jamaica was. It would be much more interesting to actually use the sextant at sea.  No wonder James had never given it to her he probably would have worried she would have some want to accompany him at sea all the while refusing to allow himself to expect anything of her.

Of course, if James had ever gone on a mission that she could have accompanied him on and asked her to do so, she would have gone in a heartbeat even when she thought both he and his entire crew hated her.

 

Elizabeth spent her days visiting Luciana and trying to help comfort Jamie and investigating what remained of her presents. Some of the oils were pleasantly scented but some of them had spoiled since James had bought them and Elizabeth reluctantly disposed of them. The powders were not spices as she had thought but dried inks – one of which was for painting on skin according to the label. Elizabeth was fascinated by that idea and had painted a mermaid on the inside of her left arm. The sand dollars and shell necklaces she had again picked out her favourites and used the rest to make a wind chime which she hung by her collection of drawings. The jacket was not the only material in there – there were some lengths of exotically patterned silk – they would go with nothing she owned but she still immediately used one as a shawl.

It was odd that she had spent almost the entire tour James had been away thinking of him but had not written him once. Her proper formal letters seemed silly and false now and had no doubt added to James not expecting anything of her. But they had not made so much progress that she could write anything else. Things were too awkward to be resolved by letter.

In the end, she wrote him a short but sincere note thanking him for the gifts and included a drawing of her own. One of a sunset she had watched while out taking sights. She nearly added a note that his namesake had his first tooth but decided against it. Luciana did not have as much time to write as she did and no doubt James would share the news when he got the letter and Luciana would want to tell Theo herself.

She never sent the note, in the end, she was taking a sight one evening on the bluffs when she spotted the _Dauntless_. It surprised her – they were not due back for another month and a half by her reckoning. And of course, that was not an exact date – such precision was hardly possible.

 

As she was out anyway she made her way to the docks to surprise James and see why they were home so early. And was nearly floored with relief when she saw James on the docks directing men and looking entirely uninjured. On the way down from the bluffs it had occurred to her that the _Dauntless_ would have had to come back early if James had relapsed and that had made her hurry just as much as she could.

“Elizabeth?” James said when he spotted her. “What are you doing out at this hour?”

“I came to see you,” she said. “I saw you in my spy glass.” She had that and the sextant and the book and her notes in a basket though she did not mean to mention she’d spent dusk on the cliffs. It was not unrealistic she could have seen him from the house. “You’re home early” and she chanced pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I will be some time,” James said a little awkwardly, glancing back at the bustle on the docks.

“I know,” Elizabeth said. “I just wanted to see everything was alright. That you were alright.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” James said his face softening, and now he looked concerned for her. “We’re back because of intelligence we received – it was a very dull tour. And I haven’t had a single headache.” He reached for her hand and squeezed gently. “Go home,” he said. “We can talk in the morning.”

“I will wait up,’ Elizabeth offered despite the dismissal, she fully expected him to say this wasn’t necessary.

Instead, James surprised her with a smile and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I will try not to keep you waiting too long.”

 

It was hours later when James came in – Elizabeth had readied herself for bed and then taken up a vigil in the drawing room determined to keep her word. The servants are all abed so there was no-one to see her in her nightgown and wrap. She had ended up pacing to stop herself dozing and found herself admiring Luciana’s stamina. She had apparently spent several nights like this until Jamie’s tooth had come in.

When James finally arrived home, he came to her side. “I am sorry about the time,” he said. “Are you well?”

“Of course I am well - I don’t mind one bit about the time,” Elizabeth said though she was tired – she had been up before dawn as well practising with her sextant. But if she was tired, James looked exhausted. There were shadows under his eyes and a slump to his shoulders she was surprised he was letting her see. All she had done today was read and walk and take sights – James had spent most of the day at sea and then arranged everything for the _Dauntless’_ arrival and who knows what else.  “But it is late. Why don’t you come to bed?” she said taking a chance. James clearly took her meaning – that she meant her bed. Not just retiring to their separate chambers but he looked entirely baffled by this notion, confusion in his green eyes which despite everything still hurt.  “I missed you,” Elizabeth told him honestly and then added. “Please?”

“Alright,” James said softly and he stepped towards her with a hopeful look on his features and for a moment she thought he would scoop her off her feet – the way he had carried her to bed on occasion when he did not remember but he didn’t instead he caught himself and took a step back – as if he was restraining himself from reaching for her and she decided she was tired of this. She grabbed his hand so that he could not change his mind and retreat to his own room – whichever of the guest chambers he had moved to. Elizabeth had deliberately not investigated this while he’d been away as she had been too tempted by the notion of just having his things moved back. That would have certainly sent a message but no doubt James would find some way to take it amiss.

 

Of course, it was still awkward when they were alone – Elizabeth offered to help but James only froze when she came near to offer to fold something or to help unpin his wig.

“I did not think you would stay up so late,” James said and Elizabeth was caught in the image of him lurking at the docks in hopes of avoiding her when he arrived home.

“I said that I would,” Elizabeth said softly.

“Yes,” James said. “You do always keep your word.”

“It’s remarkable you can make that sound a bad thing,” Elizabeth said

“No – I did not mean it like that,” James said coming to her side instead of avoiding her. “But it has made it difficult – I would rather you did not feel obliged in any way.”

“I don’t want that either,” Elizabeth said wondering if he was picking a fight just to avoid her. “You do not have to be here if you are only here because you feel obligated, I did not mean to be a nuisance.”

“I did not say that,” James said and Elizabeth felt no wiser. What did he want? In the end, she blew out the lamp and clambered into bed and pulled back the covers for him to join her. If he wanted.

It seemed a long time before his weight settled on the other side of the bed and she knew he had stayed. She waited until his breathing evened out and she was sure he was asleep and then edged closer to him curling up by his side. She was startled when he moved and brought one arm around her. “You have never been a nuisance,” James said in a whisper and she curled into his arms and felt a smidgeon of hope as she fell asleep.

 

When Elizabeth woke James was nowhere near her and for a moment she assumed he had risen early to avoid her. But he was still abed though he had moved away, he was watching her sleep. “Have I started to snore?” she asked sleepily and was startled when he leaned close to pressed a soft kiss to her lips while keeping himself bodily away from her.

“Occasionally,” James said. “It’s a very delicate lady like snore though - like a little kitten.”

Elizabeth sat up outraged. “I do not.” She said and James’ mouth twitched a little and then he smiled at her. She did not know what surprised her more – that she had fallen for something so silly or that he had teased her so. “Why are you all the way over there?” she said instead she let her shift fall down one shoulder only for James to avert his eyes. It was probably foolish to think it could be that easy.

“You know very well why,” James said, shifting the sheets a little over his lap and Elizabeth thought of all the mornings when he did not remember and she’d woken to him eager and ready before she had as so much as adjusted her shift.

“Oh,” Elizabeth said. Perhaps he did still want her. And she was about say so when she noticed a bandage on his arm. “You said you were not hurt?”

“It is only a nick,” he said. “The bandage is only to keep it clean. Nothing for you to concern yourself with.”

“As if you would permit me to concern myself,” Elizabeth said. “I do worry you know.”

“I know,” James said and when she raised an eyebrow at him amended. “I know now.” Elizabeth looked away and James reached for her arm. “I am sorry I misunderstood but do you not think that it was warranted a little? Things have not been settled between either of us.”

 

“No doubt you thought I would care as little if you lost your mind as you thought I would if you bled to death at sea,” Elizabeth said pulling her arm away– she still could not believe he had not told her of that. That she had had to hear it in an aside from Theodore Groves.

“I never thought you wouldn’t care,” James said and it seemed quite mild until he added. “But I did not bleed to death. I was practically recovered when I got home – there was nothing to tell you.”

There was something in his voice there – a hint of guilt. “That’s not the reason,” Elizabeth said suddenly and James looked even more uncomfortable. “Why didn’t you tell me really.”

“Because of a very ungenerous thought,” James said which did not make Elizabeth any less curious or inclined to let the matter drop and eventually James met her gaze – he was not cowardly about it at least and told her. “I had a concern that it might be a disappointment.”

Elizabeth did not take his meaning at first and James having started made his meaning clear. “That I had survived. After all, a widow has much more freedom than a wife.”

 

Elizabeth stared as that sunk in. She had not thought she could feel worse than when James had recovered and immediately rejected her. But apparently, she was wrong and for a moment she did not say anything. What could she say?  It was unfair, perhaps she was never a good wife but she was not a terrible one. And James seemed to think she was a terrible person. No wonder he didn’t try to improve matters - he must think she had no heart at all. He thought she stayed home and hoped for him to meet disaster at sea? “That is not fair,” she said. “I have never. I would _never_.”

“I know,” James said quietly. “I know. It was unfair and untrue and I had no call to even think it.”

“What did I do?” Elizabeth asked. “What could I possibly do that made you that made you think so poorly of me?

“Nothing,” James said as if he were trying to be frustrating on purpose. “I think the world of you, Elizabeth.  But it was quite clear that was not mutual and you were very dutiful. Elizabeth. To your detriment. It wasn’t that I thought poorly of you. I worried that you were unhappy enough you might wish for your freedom.”

 

They sat in silence for a long time after that. Elizabeth had been unhappy – she had assumed he was too but she had no idea he had considered it that bad. “Did I really seem so miserable that the only way you thought I could be happy was over your dead body?”

“I did not picture you dancing on my grave,” James said tightly. “I only thought – you clearly - regretted this marriage – why should you not be happy to be free. In time.”

“I clearly regretted it?” Elizabeth challenged. “You are the one who took my doubts at the beginning as an excuse to ignore me.”

James looked furious at that and Elizabeth did not care. This was not all her fault. “I did try,” he said. “To give you time, to show you how I felt.”

“I know,” Elizabeth said. She remembered that. James cautious attempts to engage with her when they had been newlywed and she’d sulked and ignored him.  “I remember. I wish I had taken the chance when I had it. But it did not go any better when I tried to be close to you.”

 

“Is that what we’re calling it,” James said. “It was certainly a memorable Christmas. I do not think there are many husbands who have been accused of being neglectful for not forcing themselves on their wives.”

“That was not what I said,” Elizabeth said. Though it was closer than she would like to admit.

“No,” James said. “I would have ignored it if you had said it entirely like that. But you said, you implied you wanted to – if I had known it was all duty I would never have gone ahead with it.”

That hardly made Elizabeth feel any better. “It was not all duty,” Elizabeth said and though James said nothing – not immediately, Elizabeth could read his face and he clearly thought that a lie. “Some of it was curiosity,” she pointed out.

“Yes, your complaint that you were a married _virgin_ and that was unacceptable is in fact quite memorable.” Elizabeth could not help but give him a pointed look. “When my memory is not afflicted anyway.” He paused. “I am sorry that I listened. We should have waited. I know it was awful for you. I never wanted to hurt or frighten you.”

“I’m sorry if I didn’t please you,” she said. “It’s only the first time is unpleasant for women and I never got to try again - the next time you didn’t even want me.” They have never spoken about that night. How could they? They had barely talked at all before his memory loss and then he had no idea how that night had gone.

 

“I think it was a little more than unpleasant for you,” James said, after a moment. “I should have put a stop to it. I wanted to please you before – I knew that it would pain you but I only seemed to frighten you.” Elizabeth could recall him pulling away from her a little. She could remember every detail of that night even though she had been more than little tipsy. James actually listening to her demand had sobered her remarkably. She had wondered what he had done wrong and then he had kissed her and moved over her and been in her and at least that had been what she expected. “It was almost worse after,” James said. “You had tears in your eyes but were determined not to cry and I tried to comfort you and it only made you flinch.”

“I thought you were finished,” Elizabeth said though that hardly helped matters, “and then you reached for me again. But I didn’t cry.”

“Not until you were safely back in your own room,” James said. “You didn’t close the door and I could hear you.” Elizabeth did not think it fair of him to hold that against her. Eavesdropper. “And I would have let you be after that,” he said. “I did not blame you for that – I worried over you. But it did infuriate me the night you came back to my room. You had clearly hated every moment of the previous occasion and you came back because you thought I would not care what you thought on intimacy. Only that I had some right to it and you would pay it like a debt.”

“That is what my governess called it,” Elizabeth said knowing that was a poor defence. “And I thought the actual act would get easier – when it didn’t hurt. And I did like part of it.”

“Did you?” James asked sceptically.

“I liked being kissed,” she said. “You hardly did the first time but I thought I could encourage you and that might be a fair deal – you could have your pleasure and I would get kisses.”

 

“Christ,” James said to her horror. “What a poor show, that you thought you had to offer me something to get kisses.”

“Not a deal you’d be interested in now then?’ Elizabeth said and was relieved when this seemed to startle him and then make him smile.

“You can have all the kisses you like,’ he offered cautiously. “As long as you want them.”

Elizabeth felt like her heart might stop and James looked just as nervous. “That would be a lot,” she told him. “You have at least a two-year backlog to make up you know.”

James inched closer to her and then pulled her into his arms relief flooding his face when she slipped her arms around him and tilted her face to his. “I suppose I should start right away,” he said. Still seeking permission then but it was still progress. But Elizabeth barely got to nod before his mouth was on hers and then he pressed her down to the pillows as he deepened the kiss and she tangled her hands in his hair and arched flooded with relief and want and hope. James kissed her and kissed her only ever breaking the kiss long enough to trail kisses along her jaw or to nip at her neck. He had angled his body away from her still and his hands did not wander at all. Elizabeth supposed she would wait a day or so for him to settle to this before she made it clear her approval ran to more than kisses now. She did not want to distract him right now – not when he was so focused in a way that finally had them on the same page.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and James make a little more progress.

Elizabeth could not complain over James’ behaviour since their talk. It was not quite as things had been before his memory returned but they were still closer than they had been at any other point in their marriage. The intelligence that had sent the Dauntless home early meant he was at the Fort most days sometimes for very long hours and he would soon be sailing again – for a much longer tour in pursuit of a French warship. But he had not sailed yet and Elizabeth meant to enjoy him while she had him.

He had taken her challenge about kissing seriously and shared her bed every night. She slept in his arms each night after James spent what seemed liked hours kissing her and woke most days to his lips on hers. His hands never seemed to wander – fixing on her waist or occasionally sliding up her back to hold her close his lips did, he had kissed along her jawline and down her neck and he had a way of nuzzling at her pulse point that drove her quite mad. As wonderful as all this focused attention was, Elizabeth could have wept with wanting _more_.

More was not forthcoming. Elizabeth had tried to show James she was receptive to well almost anything he wanted. In fact, there would be no almost – anything he wanted.  Even if he wanted something scandalous it would be better than this rather maddening limitation. But James seemed quite content with kissing. Lots of kissing. Beyond the nights and mornings, she had spent locked in his arms. James pulled her into his arms before he left for the fort each day and sought her out to greet her with kisses as soon as he returned home

 

They spent evenings together. And when James’ schedule allowed them to socialise he had been just as approving. They had attended one event where James had danced attendance on her all night, doting obviously and he had not stood up for a single set with anyone else. It had caused all sorts of talk but Elizabeth could only feel smug about this gossip.

If she was honest if she had not had that month of sharing James’ bed. Of being overwhelmed again and again by his clever hands and mouth and learned just how wonderful he could feel when he was inside of her, Elizabeth might have considered herself content no matter what she had read about intimacy. But they had had that month and Elizabeth missed the closeness incredibly and it worried her. Why didn’t he want her?

Of course, not all of him was indifferent to her. Because she spent so much time in his arms she knew very well part of him wanted her. James did his best not to press against her when he was clearly aroused but Elizabeth did manage to squirm against him enough to know feel that she had affected him most nights. And she knew she should just talk to him. It had worked when they finally talked previously. But then she had had nothing to lose. Now everything was so wonderful and on top of that. James had been so clear he had not wanted anything from her out of duty. If he did not want her should she not offer him the same courtesy. Perhaps that hardness she felt pressing into her hip most nights or against her bottom, each morning was just a physical reaction. Her reading – however inappropriate had made it clear that cock stands were not exactly discriminate. Though made no sense either – they were still close. He seemed to enjoy kissing her until her lips were swollen and nipping at her lip and teasing her with his tongue.  But if Elizabeth reached for him he pulled her hands back if she squirmed against him he would make a most gratifying face where she could almost see his self-control waver. But it never did more than waver and eventually decided if he would not ask for more then she would just have to be forward.

 

Still, it was a new level of forward even for Elizabeth and she spent far too long on thinking how she might phrase it. Pointing out she was getting kisses but not holding up her end of the bargain would have been easy but she ruled it out almost right away. He would think that was duty. This also ruled out anything where she asked if she had been too wanton or too keen when last he bedded her.

 

In the end, it had come up one night when he had woken her. “You were having a bad dream,” he told her brushing her hair out of her face and looking ever so concerned but not for some reason drawing her into his arms as he might usually do when they woke together. He had lit the bedside lamp and concern was clear on his face which in any other circumstance she might have found reassuring.

“I was not,” Elizabeth snapped, unable to help herself. She did not appreciate being woken – she had not been having a bad dream, she had been dreaming of him. Dreaming of him loving her thoroughly as if had had when did not remember any of the awkwardness. She dreamed that most nights – even more than when he had been away. And it had been such a lovely intense dream and awful to be jolted out of it. Now it was like he was frustrating her on purpose.

“Would you like me to sleep elsewhere?” James asked confusing her. Was it not enough that he was frustrating her when awake and she took a deep breath. This happened every time she lost her temper – James acted as if they had made no progress at all and she wanted nothing more to do with him.

 

“No,” Elizabeth said. “I wish you would stop misunderstanding me.”

“Well on that we agree,” James said quietly. “I do not do it deliberately Elizabeth. It looked like a bad dream and you said my name and I would just hate to impose.”

“What do you mean it looked like a bad dream?” Elizabeth said.

“You looked uncomfortable,” he said, “and were restless and then you said my name. And,” James added defensively. “You are in such a temper now.”

“I can assure you in my dream I was very comfortable,” Elizabeth said. “It was a very pleasant dream and I did not appreciate being woken from it.” She kissed his cheek – she did not want to make him retreat. “Am I not even to have you in my dreams now?”

“Do you want me in your dreams?” James said sounding utterly baffled and he must have taken aback at the look she gave him and added suddenly sounding entirely befuddled. “You said you liked kisses. I thought that was all you wanted.”

“Two years ago, I only wanted kisses,” Elizabeth admitted. “When I had no idea what else there was to want. When I had no idea, you were trying to please me with your touch – I just lay there and thought why is he poking at me with his fingers – that was not the part of you I had been told to expect.” James just looked utterly stupefied by this. “I mean I do want to be kissed,” Elizabeth offered. “I very much want that. But I want more than that James. I want you.”

 

James was quiet for a long moment and then he leaned forward and kissed her hard. Harder than he had ever kissed her pressing her down to the pillows and leaning his full weight on her. “Thank god,” he said with feeling and he then slipped one hand to her thigh before hesitating to stare at her in the lamplight.

“If you stop now,” Elizabeth said. “You had better sleep elsewhere because I will smother you with your pillow.” Then his hand moved up to tease her and she gasped – it was not something she needed at all – she was slick with want from her dream and in case he did change his mind she reached for him hoping he would be as ready as he often was when they ended up sleeping close. “Please James,” she said trying to coax him into being impatient – something she had not yet succeeded at in any of their numerous encounters. Sometimes once he was in her but he had always seen to her pleasure first and then had her and seen to it again. As needy as she was she did not want that - she wanted him inside her now. “I need you this instant.” James surprised her by taking the order and pressed his face into her neck as he slid inside her bucking her hips and groaning when she arched back under him unable to help herself. She felt complete with him inside her and she had begun to wonder if she would ever get to feel this way again.

 

“I dream of you too,” James confessed slipping his hand between them to see to her pleasure. “Christ Elizabeth you’re soaking.” Elizabeth flushed a little as he circled his fingers so easily against her wetness even as he thrust inside her. It was not her fault she was half mad with lust. James had always made sure she was aroused before but she had never felt this desperate and

“Does that not feel as good?” she asked nipping at his neck – forming words was not her highest priority right now. She just wanted more of his focused attention.  

“It’s perfect,” James said, his voice unsteady. “You’re perfect – you’ve always been perfect, Elizabeth," and he bucked against her and pressed harder with his fingers and that was all it took and Elizabeth cried his name against his shoulder as he thrust hard and then startled her by pulling out of her and then there was a sudden wet sensation on her stomach as he stilled with a groan of his own.

“Now I am even more soaked,” she told him irritated as she realised what he had done and why.

 

James looked as if she had rejected him entirely and used the edge of his shirt to wipe her skin clean.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I just thought we should be careful.”

“Alright,” Elizabeth said trying not to sound reluctant. A baby should be something they agreed on. If he did not want one – that seemed an awful pressure on a child. And she could easily imagine how awful it would be to find she was with child and to know he would not be pleased to hear the news. But it still stung a little and she drew him close so he would not see and scolded. “But you can redirect your aim to the sheets in future.” If he did not want to spill his seed in her there was no reason he should do it _on_ her.

“Elizabeth,” James started but she shushed him then kissed him softly.

“I’m tired,” she said using his chest as a pillow as she was already in his arms – no doubt if she turned away from him to sleep alone he’d persist in trying to explain, her gamble worked and he pressed a kiss to her hair and let it be.

 

Until the next morning anyway when no doubt he woke at dawn like he usually did and managed to wait all of half an hour before he was nuzzling at her neck until she woke. She tilted his face up to his for a kiss and James kissed her cheek and gazed at her his green eyes intense. Elizabeth turned away from him and pressed her face into the pillow. “Too early,” she said. Normally she spent the early morning let him coax her awake with kisses but that had not been what was coming from the look on his face.

“I have to be at the fort early,” James said. “You can go back to sleep in a moment, I promise.”

Elizabeth gave in. It was rare for James to insist on anything but clearly, he was not going to let this go. “You do not have to explain yourself,” she said. “You have made yourself clear what you thought of children already. I’m not demanding you do your duty and impregnate me.”

“Elizabeth!” James said. “When I am not about to spend a year at sea warring with France. I will be quite happy to impregnate you. I only ever said I was relieved you were not with child because I assumed you would not want to be.” Elizabeth stared and he misinterpreted the look. “I know that was wrong of me,” he began.

 

“A year?” Elizabeth said. “You never said a _year_. And don’t you dare say you thought I wouldn’t care – I made it quite clear I did on the night you arrived back.”

“You did,” James said. “You were very clear. And it may not be a year. It might be closer to six months.” Which was hardly comforting and did not explain his statement at all. “I know it is a long time to ask you to wait. On my behalf. It’s something very selfish of me.”

Elizabeth found that quite hard to believe. James never put himself first. “Is it?” she said. “Not something ridiculous? Not your concern that my freedom as a widow would be curtailed if you left me something of you. Or that having a child from my first marriage would put off all the men who’d sniff around for my dowry as a second husband.”

“No,” James said smoothly. “I’ve made a vow you see to stay safe at sea so I am not planning for your widowhood anymore.”

“Good,” Elizabeth said. “It is good to see you’re taking that seriously – I hope you remember that it requires you listen to medical advice.” James rather pointedly ignored that and eventually, she had to prompt him. ‘Well go on, why do you want to wait.’

“Because I would like to be here for you,” James said. “I know I will never get to be here for the whole time. That I will always miss something. But I would like to be here for some of it. See you swell with child and wonder who they will take after – not hear it in a letter that comes months late once the dispatches catch us at sea and come home to a child already in the cradle.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said. “Well. I suppose I can allow that.” James looked relieved as if she could actually have prevented it. He could have just gone back to not bedding her at all and that would have meant there was no child. She would rather have some of his attention – at least until he had dealt with the French.

She slipped out of bed when he did and surprised him. “I thought you were going back to sleep?” he said.

“That was before I knew you were going to be gone a year,” Elizabeth said. “Now I have to get up for breakfast. I have to make the most of you while I have you.” James looked extremely touched by this and Elizabeth kissed his cheek. She did not feel as tired suddenly and well if she was going to keep his ridiculously early hours she could always sleep when he was at the fort.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Elizabeth's last few weeks before he sails are interrupted with a visitor from England.

The last fortnight before James sailed passed incredibly quickly. When James was not at the fort, he spent every moment with Elizabeth and it was not at all out of obligation that she could see. Much of it was in bed of course given his days were busy. But not all. They went for walks. Elizabeth let James back in her sitting room and meals were no longer taken in awkward silence. It was almost – almost perfect except Elizabeth could not help but wonder how James felt. He was clearly content and certainly more than fond of her. But when he hadn’t remembered their marriage it had been all she could do to stop him saying he loved her. Now there was no such danger – and Elizabeth knew she could not blame him if he no longer loved her. Perhaps he was satisfied to have a wife he did not have to avoid, convinced she despised him.

Elizabeth loved him what seemed like a little bit more every day but it seemed like it could only spoil things to say so if he no longer felt the same. Instead, she did her best to show James how she felt.

 

One night they had been curled up together on a humid sticky night in which it seemed too much effort to dress after lovemaking and James had pressed her down for kisses despite the fact they were both sweaty and sticky and teased her over her faded mermaid tattoo. “What did you expect me to do with that powder?” Elizabeth had challenged admiring the mermaid on her arm and deciding to refresh it at the soonest opportunity. “Perhaps I should draw one on you,” she said. “To remind you of me when you are away.”

James laughed. “You think I need a reminder?” He was more amused than offended but the question still gave Elizabeth pause. Obviously, he did not forget her when he was at sea but it had never really occurred to her that he would think overmuch on her.

Before his illness, Elizabeth was ashamed to admit to herself, it had been a relief when James was away. She could not make things any worse when he was not here. She had assumed it was much the same for him. But now he would think of her and that seemed positive.

“Perhaps you might like a reminder of how things are now?” she ventured and James pulled her close and buried his face in his hair.

“Perhaps I might,” he said after a long moment that filled Elizabeth with hope. But then he kissed her again and she could not dwell on it.

 

Elizabeth painted a mermaid on his chest in the end and a series of seashells on one thigh and she had been seriously contemplating what she could add to his back which would be a rather marvellous canvas. James confiscated the ink and drew her close for a kiss. “You are supposed to stay still,” she scolded. “You will smudge my masterpieces.”

“I hope you know that I will have to explain these to Dr Frazier if I should need medical treatment,” James said.

Elizabeth tutted – the henna would fade quickly enough – her mermaid was nearly gone. “I should hope you are not going to need Dr Frazier’s attention,” she said. He had promised after all. “But if you did you have the perfect explanation. The doctor knows very well you have a demanding young wife to indulge.” Given Dr Frazier had used such as a distraction when James was ill he could hardly find it that unusual.

“Yes,” James said. “I doubt being art material was what he had in mind.” Elizabeth smiled sweetly and pushed him back down to the pillows.

“Well when the henna is dry, I will see what other marks I can leave to show I am thoroughly indulged.” She rather enjoyed watching him instantly still and look intrigued. It was only fair to make him wait a little – he had driven her quite mad for weeks with just kisses. Elizabeth wasn’t quite as patient but the seashells only ended up a _little_ smudged.

 

* * *

 

Three days before James was due to leave there was an almighty storm. Elizabeth was woken in the middle of the night by the sound of lightning. She slipped out of James’ arms and to the window seat opening the shutters and the window a crack even though her father had always scolded her for it. Elizabeth had always liked watching storms and this one was opportune. Perhaps she might get a few more days with James. But if not, at least it was not happening while he was at sea. It would not be nearly as much fun to watch if she was worrying over James.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting watching the wind howl and rain lash when James stirred. He startled her when he came over to join her, he brought a blanket from the bed – Elizabeth hadn’t even realized how cold she had become and he slipped behind her so he could wrap her up warmly and hold her close.

“You are like ice,” James told her as she settled back against him. “Why is the window open?”

“I like the smell of the rain,” Elizabeth told him. She took a deep breath of thankfully cool air – it had been muggy for weeks and she liked the tingle that the lightning left in the air. “Anyway,” she added a little smugly. “I have you to warm me.” She pressed one cold foot against his leg and laughed when he jumped.

“I am not sure I can warm you adequately here,” James said as his hands began to wander, one wrapping the blanket more firmly around her and the other exploring her thigh. “Certainly not in this draft,” he said and he firmly closed the window before he carried her back to bed.

 

James seemed to take warming her very seriously. His hands roamed all over her, without pulling at her nightgown. “I think it would be much more warming if you just came here,” she told him reaching for him and attempting to pull him close. “I want you.”

“You know,” James said kissing along the neckline of her shift. “I don’t think I ever got an answer to my question about what you like?” His hand cupped one breast and Elizabeth inhaled. “I know perhaps you did not have much basis to answer then. But now?”  

“I like you,” Elizabeth said watching him. She liked all of it really but that seemed rather unhelpful to say. But as useless an answer as that was it made James smile. And she leaned up to kiss him. “But perhaps like this,” she ventured. “So we can kiss at the same time.” And James immediately leaned down to capture her mouth and Elizabeth wrapped her legs around him tugging up her own shift and gasping into his mouth as he slid inside her.

Elizabeth held tightly to him as he moved against her each movement sweet and perfect. “James,” she murmured. “Just like that. _Please_ ”

James did not pull away when she was overcome and he stilled against her. It was almost as if he could not bear too and that was a good sign Elizabeth hoped.

 “You are so perfect,” he told her and Elizabeth felt her heart skip a beat. He said that nearly every time now. She had begun to hope it meant more than just a compliment.

“And thoroughly warmed,” she told him with a laugh as he moved off her and she curled up beside him. “Good night darling.” Though it was very nearly morning but Elizabeth did not intend to surrender James just yet.

 

After a night with so little sleep that it was a most unwelcome disruption to be woken only a few hours later in the early hours of the morning by a banging noise, that could be heard throughout the house. Elizabeth protested when James slipped out of bed – had she left the window latch loose? But then she realized it was the front door. Surely the footman could send away whoever was being so rude. “It may be someone from the fort,” James said. “The storm may have caused issues or. .”

Elizabeth was sceptical. Surely whoever was on duty would not have sent an ill-mannered runner on top of being unable to handle things themselves. She pulled on a wrap and followed James to the stairs to see what was going on.

It was not, in fact, a runner from the fort. But a stranger who was making himself quite comfortable in their hall ringing water out of his coat and berating the footman who had had the misfortune to answer the door for the time he had taken to get there.

“For heaven’s sake be quiet Archibald,” James said coldly. Elizabeth had seldom heard him speak so to anyone. “What do you mean arriving in the middle of the night unannounced and berating my staff.”

 

Archibald? Elizabeth took a moment to place the name and then realized. James’ eldest brother. She supposed if one squinted there was a vague resemblance. If James had let himself run to fat he might look a little like their unwelcome guest.

“Well that is gratitude for you,” Archibald said. “I come all the way out here to this colonial wilderness to quiet our Mother’s concerns that her youngest has gone soft in the head. And not even a welcome.” He spotted Elizabeth then and squinted up at her. “I say, James, is that your wife?” Elizabeth blinked and under the rather direct gaze pulled her wrap tighter around herself.

“Of course, she is my wife,” James said tightly.  “This is our home.”

“Dear Lord,” Archibald said. “Well look at her. And here we all thought you’d married some hatchet-faced blue stocking for her father’s influence.” As ridiculous as Archibald was, Elizabeth couldn’t help but wonder just what James had written about her to his family to give that impression.

“Archibald,” James said in a low voice. “You will apologise to my wife at once or I will throw you back out in the storm and be glad of it.”

Archibald made a face and grumbled about before grudgingly saying. “My apologies sister dearest but he really has been quite one note in his letters. No detail at all of what you look like and pages on your literary taste.”

“Elizabeth,” James said sounding pleading. “Please go back to bed – I will deal with my brother.” Elizabeth nodded and pressed a kiss to his cheek, ignoring her brother in law – she could feel Archibald’s eyes on her the entire time she retreated up the stairs.

 

* * *

 

James joined her no more than twenty minutes later, still looking beyond irritated. “I am sorry about him,” he said. Elizabeth did not think even Jack Sparrow had wound James up this much. “It seems the post to England has been reliable as ever and nothing we’ve sent since my memory returned has arrived.”

“I did write,” Elizabeth assured him. It had perhaps not been the most generously motivated letter as Elizabeth had wanted to stave off any further enquiries about happy news when James had barely been able to look at her. But she had written all the same. The single frantic note she had received from his mother about his condition had been the only one that had not enquired hopefully about grandchildren in their entire correspondence. She had replied at once that James was recovered and well and at sea.

“I know,” James said. “I know you reply to all my mother’s notes no matter how she presses you. And you mentioned it one night at dinner.” Elizabeth didn’t recall that but no doubt she would have been searching for something to say – the dinners had been so awkward during his immediate recovery. “I’ve written too,” James said. “It will be the post. That’s all. But there could not a worse time for it. I cannot believe she has sent him all this way to check on me.” 

 

“Never mind,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll have a guest chamber made up and no doubt your brother will tire of the colonial wilderness soon enough and be off to reassure her in person.”

“He is not staying here,” James said at once and she was not sure what surprised her more – his petulant tone or the complete lack of manners. “He can find his own lodgings or immediate passage back to England.”

“James,” she said. “He is your brother.” It was beyond odd for her to be correcting him on family duty. “You can’t mean –“

“I do,” James said. “Even with the weather, I will be sailing within a week. And I will not leave him here to inflict himself on you and the staff.”

“Alright,” Elizabeth agreed, baffled. She had never seen James this agitated. He seemed as worked up now as the day his memory had returned. “But I could handle an awkward houseguest you know,” she told him. “Have you let him stay for breakfast at least?”

“Only because the alternative would be bodily removing him,” James said. He looked tempted by the thought and it was so odd to see James behaving so that Elizabeth was speechless. He had never really spoken about either of his brothers but Elizabeth had thought that didn’t mean anything. Not given how poorly they had communicated in the past. She had thought that had been because they seldom talked. Not because he had issues with his family.

 

“I am sure I can keep the laudanum locked up,” she offered. That as the only other hint she had of why James could be this unwelcoming.

“Edward is the opium fiend,” James said after a long moment. “Archibald is only a drunk. As far as I know. And a gambler and a rakehell. No doubt that is how my mother convinced him out here. She will have settled another load of debts for him. Or he is happy to be clear of town until some scandal settles.”

Elizabeth could not help but wonder if she should feel guilty that she knew so little of James’ family. Once she had considered – unfairly of course – that they were as dull and ordinary as she considered James to be. By the time she had realized James was not dull she had presumed them pleasant but happily distant. Elizabeth had not considered at all that James might dislike his family.

“Perhaps I should no longer wonder why it’s only your sister you have a painting of,” she said. She felt utterly useless. How did she comfort him for having terrible relatives? She only had experience of her father who had doted on her, her entire life.

 

James only looked further uncomfortable at the mention of his sister and Elizabeth wondered if somehow, she was awful too before he changed the subject. “I think I must tell Lt Groves he is here,” he said finally. “There is bad blood there too and I hope Theo can leave it be.”

“Go and convince him yourself,” Elizabeth said. “Surely your brother cannot be that unmanageable at breakfast?”

James seemed unhappy at the thought. “You could eat in your room,” he suggested. “My brother won’t care as long as he is fed.” But Elizabeth was not having any of that and James finally condescended to allow her to host his brother for breakfast but only after warning her once again that she was not to invite Archibald to stay. No matter what he said.

 

* * *

 

 

Archibald may not have managed to be drunk or gambling at breakfast but he was still remarkably offensive.

Elizabeth asked after his travel. The ship. How the weather had been before the storm. Pointless pleasantries. “Ghastly the whole way,” Archibald had told her. “Don’t know how my Father ever put up with it. Or how Jamie stands it. Especially not when he’s got you at home waiting for him.”

It took Elizabeth a moment to register what he meant. But the look he gave her made it quite clear. Elizabeth was of course not unfamiliar with being leered at. Port Royal had its own libertines who assumed married women would be fair game after a few years of marriage. And there had been the pirates of course. But she had never considered being leered at over breakfast by someone who was a relative. No wonder James hadn’t wanted to leave her alone with him.

“Well we can’t all have James’ constitution,” she had said in her sweetest tone. “Still your father must find it a comfort that one of his sons has the fortitude to take up his mantle.”

Archibald scowled and busied himself with his coffee then. “It is a shame,” he said after a long moment. “My mother was hoping for more than one reassurance while I was here. That James was well and might yet soon have a family of his own. I’d been assuming even James couldn’t force himself to be the cliff face too often with some plain bluestocking. But you must actually barren. Even my brother must have the sense to be making the most of this marriage. When I saw you on the stairs before - I thought he must have found a pretty maid to fill the gap.” He shovelled kedgeree into his mouth. “How on Earth did Jamie ever get a girl like you to marry him.”

 

Elizabeth supposes she should only be glad that James was not keen on his brother staying. If one meal with the man was this unbearable how much worse to have him actually staying in their home. And this was him sober.

“James is a wonderful husband,” she said. “And as the scourge of piracy and ranking officer here, he could have had the hand of any girl he wanted in the eastern Caribbean.”

Her brother in law made a rude noise. “As if they are such a threat. I mean. What a fuss navy men like to make. My father is the same.  Have you ever so much as seen these pirates that James is defending you from.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said promptly. “I have. Pirates attacked Port Royal not three years ago. I was kidnapped and James rescued me himself.”

Archibald blinked and of course managed to be disgusting about it. “Well, I imagine that was an _ordeal_ ,” it was very clear what he was implying and Elizabeth barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

 

She could not tell him about the curse, of course, it had not been the brightest idea to even start this story. But still, she could make her point well enough without telling Archibald the truth. “I am the governor’s daughter,” she reminded him. “I was not harmed. No doubt they would have ransomed me if James hadn’t come for me.” And then she looked at Archibald’s stupid leering face and had an idea.

“Of course, pirates are dangerous – not clever.  One did make the mistake of threatening me. But it was at a meal time and they had given me a knife to cut my meat.” Elizabeth looked as innocent as could be as she picked up said cutlery and pointed it at her brother in law. “It was such a surprise,” she told her brother in law. “I thought it would be _hard_ to stab someone. But the knife went in like he was butter.” She rested the point on Archibald’s chest – just where she had stabbed Barbossa. Of course, it had not been that simple but Archibald didn’t need to know that and then she quickly pressed just hard enough to see a spot of blood appear on his shirt. “Their knife was sharper of course,” she said. “But James does have some sharper ones.”

 

When James returned home later it turned out that Archibald had found him to complain to on his way to find lodgings in town. “He was looking very well,” James said. “For someone who claimed to have been stabbed. Are you alright?”

“Of course, I am,” Elizabeth said – she had not been at all sad to see the back of her brother in law. “What did you say to his complaint?”

“That if he had done anything to give you cause to stab him I would run him through myself,” James said. “I am sorry that I left you alone with him. It was badly done of me. He made some noise about booking himself on the first ship leaving for England but I doubt we will be so fortunate to see the back of him so easily.”

“I only poked him with a knife,” Elizabeth said. “He was being so obnoxious – I told him about stabbing Barbossa and just used the knife to make my point a little.”

“I would hardly mind if you had stabbed him,” James said and he clearly meant that to be reassuring – rather than bafflingly out of character for him.

“James, what has your brother done?” Elizabeth said. “What bad blood is between him and Lieutenant Groves?”

 

James paused. “It is an unpleasant tale,” he said.

“I can only imagine any story involving your brother would be unpleasant,” Elizabeth said. “But I still want to know.”

“I was at sea when it happened,” James said. “It was just after Theo passed the lieutenant’s exam and he had been acting as master’s mate – he was courting my sister at the time,” James said. “He was going to propose when he got a lieutenant’s posting. The miniature you found was his actually. He gave it to me when he married Luciana – he had kept it until then but thought he should give it up when married.”

James paused and at least that bit explained something – Elizabeth had never questioned that the painting was his sister – why would she but it did look more like a painting for a sweetheart than a brother.

 

“There was a house party at the Groves estate and my brother was caught forcing himself on one of the maids. It was all hushed up of course but Theo wouldn’t have it – he called Archibald out. My father cut all contact between him and my sister and ended any influence he was extending for Theo with the Admiralty board.” James looked grim. “My father said clearly the girl was at fault and he managed to make sure Theo was immediately reassigned so he could not even keep his appointment with my brother. My sister broke the heart over it and my father made her a match with a cousin. I arrived back after all of this and heard it from her.” James looked hesitant. “I am ashamed I left you alone with him,” he said. “I was sure when he said you had stabbed him he had done something to deserve it and that was my fault for even letting him in the house.”

Elizabeth had not really been alone with her brother in law though, she had been trailed all morning by a footman who had stayed in the dining room long after the meal was set up and the portions served. And she doubts that was a coincidence.

“No,” she said. “He was only rude. I am fine James.” Archibald had leered but perhaps he had some sense and she was startled when James looked a little guilty and then glanced at his knuckles which Elizabeth was startled to see were bruised.

“James?” she said puzzled.  

“We had words,” James said. “I may have lost my temper a little, it’s why he won’t leave – he’ll want to hang around and embarrass me by claiming he came all this way to check on me and I blacked his eye for his troubles.”

Elizabeth blinked. What had his brother said to cause James to respond so. Whatever it was she found she would have dearly liked to see that. “What did he say?” she asked.

James looked reluctant which told her something. “I am not going to be offended by any nonsense he had come up with,” she reassured. “It cannot be worse than what he said over breakfast.”

 

“He congratulated me,” James said. “For rescuing you before you were ruined but after your reputation was compromised enough you had to accept my proposal. Obviously, that’s the only way I could have secured the hand of someone as lovely as you.”

“What rot,” Elizabeth said but James looked awkward and Elizabeth felt her heart sink as she realized what he thought. “You didn’t punch him because of what he said,” she accused. “You lost your temper because you think it’s true.”

James did not deny it and Elizabeth felt utterly helpless. “It did not seem entirely dissimilar,” he said quietly. “And I do not mean to harp on it, Elizabeth. You are a wonderful wife. However, our marriage came about, however, things have been in the past – we are happy now are we not?” There was an edge of worry there but Elizabeth found herself flooded with relief despite his worry. He was happy.

“Of course, we are,” Elizabeth assured him. “I mean I am and I hoped perhaps you were – at least now.”

“Very,” James said. “I promise.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “I will deal with my brother. I’ll use my mother’s approach no doubt a bribe will get him to leave. I will have him gone before I sail if I have to drag him aboard a passenger ship and order the Captain out of Port myself.”

Elizabeth smiled at the notion. “Well that I would like to see,” she said. She would not even care how many scolding notes she got from James’ mother.   



	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude of progress before James has to deal with his brother.

James had gone out immediately to deal with Archibald and had been gone all day – he only came back just when Elizabeth was about to delay dinner. He had been unable to locate his brother, was more than a little inebriated and his temper was on a knife-edge. He barely touched his food at dinner which was beyond unusual for him. James had a military man’s stomach and normally ate whatever was put in front of him without notice or complaint. He had even eaten her attempts at cooking when she was younger – before her father’s cook had banished her from the kitchen. Not even her father had indulged her so when she presented him with various oddly shaped baked goods and bread that was at once burnt _and_ raw.

Elizabeth did not know what to say to James. She hardly had advice on dealing with estranged family and even if she had a notion she was not sure James would want her advice though he did join her in her sitting room at least. “No doubt he will be drunk somewhere,” she said. “And by tomorrow gossip will help you locate him.”

 

“I tried every tavern,” James said shortly – which explained the brandy on his breath. “But he has other vices.”

Elizabeth could easily imagine, and she was perhaps foolishly relieved James had decided against trawling the brothels of Port Royal for his brother.

“I am sorry,” she said. “But he cannot hide forever and as soon as you find him he’ll be gone.”

“Yes,” James said though he did not look at all cheered – it was a rather dismal encouragement.

“And I’m sorry I never asked about your family before,” she added which earned her an odd look.

“I was always rather grateful you did not,” James said. “It was hardly a conversation I wanted to have.”

“I suppose I hardly gave you reason to confide in me,” Elizabeth said even if the words did sting.

“I did not mean that,” James said at once, his green eyes wide. “But frankly if I could never speak of Archibald or Edward again that would be preferable. My mother means well generally but I am sure she has not come over well in your letters and my father-“ James trailed off. “Well, I have been disappointing him for years.”

 

“What?” Elizabeth said. “You are the only one of his sons worth a damn by any standard. You have followed in his career. You will achieve flag rank by forty.” She paused – her next point rather self-aggrandising but she followed through none the less because it was true. “And you married well." On paper at least Elizabeth was well born and well-dowered and _connected_ \- what every society bride should be even if she fell short in being whatever James actually wanted. "How on earth are you the disappointing son?”

James only seemed confused by her ire on his behalf which only made her feel more ill-tempered. And then she remembered the scolding notes from his mother. That he was the only one without children but she had rather thought that her mother in laws issue. And James surely did not care about that – not given his attitude to conception.

 

“Should we retire early,” Elizabeth suggested. “No doubt you will be up at dawn to chase down Archibald and you should be well rested if you are sailing soon.” And there was no reason they should not do more than sleep.

James did not seem convinced which worried her a little. He had always seemed so keen on her being forward in this manner. Clearly, because he was still startled she did want him. “Unless of course I have uncovered the secret and you have thought me a hatchet-faced blue stocking all along?”

That at least got his attention. “Of course not,” James said. “And I am sure my family don’t think that either – my brother was just being offensive to get a rise out of me.”

Elizabeth was not entirely sure about that. The words had made sense in a way, of an occasional hint of sympathy in her mother in laws otherwise irritating letters. She had assumed the tips on how to please James were a sign of disapproval but perhaps they really were intended to be helpful if her mother in law thought her unattractive and having to fight for James’ attention. “So, you have told them what I look like?” Elizabeth persisted though she was very sure of the answer even before James looked awkward.

“Perhaps in general terms,” he said. “I told my mother you were fair, I am sure of that. When she sent you that jewellery and the material for gowns.” Elizabeth had never worn any of the Norrington family jewellery she had been sent – and only partly because it was old-fashioned. She had been sure it had been given out of duty and she had hardly felt entitled to claim it. And she had the material made up into the suggested gowns from the fashion plates Mrs Norrington had sent only to have James pay as much attention as always – very little. At least that she had seen.

 

“If all you have told them is my colouring no wonder they think I’m plain,” Elizabeth said coiling close to him and shifting into his lap to kiss him softly, the silk of her skirts rustling as she squirmed against him – her clear hint about retiring had been ignored but James did not object to this bit of forwardness.  

“I did try to say more,” James said slipping his arms around her to hold her close and pressing a kiss to her neck which she found very promising. “But finding words to describe you – it was beyond my talents.”

 

“I could take that entirely the wrong way,” Elizabeth told him.

James flushed. "I meant your beauty," he said earnestly and she kissed him sweetly.

“Well ,now you will have to try. Do you want the only description they have of me to come from your brother?” James looked sulky at that notion which Elizabeth only found endearing. “You can’t think of anything nice to say?” she teased rocking a little in his lap, very aware of the effect she was having on him. She was certainly prepared to reward effort – they had made love in the sitting room before but not since James’ had recovered his memory.

Since then – since things were in a way new all over again they had reserved such activities for the bedroom but perhaps mainly because Elizabeth tended to encourage him now – and she had never had to then and she restricted such encouragement to bedroom not wanting to push her luck. James’ hands slid down to her lower back holding her in place as she rocked against him slow and steady. “What do you think my best feature is?” she said leaning into to nip at his neck. She did not really expect him to say anything at suitable for his family, not when he was roused so but he surprised her by pulling away to catch her gaze.

“Your eyes,” he said without hesitation. “They are so striking and the most beautiful colour,” he said.

Elizabeth laughed and squirmed a hand between them to unfasten his breeches. “They are brown,” she told him.

“I like brown,” James said – apparently suddenly willing to argue. “And they are dark and bright all at once, and expressive – when you want them to be. I could always see when you were plotting something – when you let me see anyway.”

Elizabeth slid a hand in his breaches to grasp at James – he was hard and ready, and she slid her hand over him root to tip, gently. “And what do my eyes say right now?” she asked as he arched into the touch.

“They should say you are a menace,” he said his breath quick in a way, Elizabeth found very gratifying. James did not grab at her or stop her though she carried on touching him and bent to kiss his neck. “But a very lovely one.”

“I am helping,” Elizabeth told him firmly, “keep talking.” She was a little surprised when he did though – clearly, the alcohol had loosened his tongue somewhat.

 

“Your hair is beautiful too,” James added. “I always thought so, like spun gold. I thought I liked it best when you had it up and there would always be a curl or two framing your face. I always wanted to touch it but now I like it best when you wear it down, when you are dishevelled, or en déshabillé and I can touch you and run my h,” he cut off as Elizabeth quickened the pace of her strokes delighting as he thrust into her grip, struggling for control. “Elizabeth – that, I won’t last if you keep at that.”

“Keep talking,” Elizabeth instructed. She had no plans to desist James was telling her quite fervently about the softness of her skin when her touch finally became too much, and he came in her hand, his talk cut off with a cry of her name, Elizabeth caught him up in a kiss without letting him catch his breath and laughed against his mouth.

“See,” she said when he pulled back and she wiped her sticky hand on his shirt. “You have lots to put in your letter about me.”

 

James said nothing then for a moment and then lifted off his lap and settled her on the couch looming over her until she was on her back watching him eagerly and he told her. “I can think of lots more I dare not put in writing.”

This was only more promising, and Elizabeth felt her breath hitch as James lifted her skirts and petticoat and shift and let his hands do the talking. “I like your eyes too,” she blurted as he began to tease her. “They change colour – sometimes they are spring green.” James glanced up at her from where he had begun to plant kisses on her exposed thigh. “And sometimes like a stormy sea,” she said. “When they are dark like that I know you are either very pleased with me. Or utterly weary of me.” James blinked.

“I have never been weary of you,” he told her firmly and then he lowered his mouth replacing his touch with his tongue and Elizabeth did not get to ponder that denial. Not fully. Not when he was tormenting her so thoroughly with pleasure. And he did not stop when she cried out his name and arched under him but lapped at her until she pleaded for mercy winding her hands in his dark hair and tugging sharply.

  

By the time, they eventually got to bed that night – Elizabeth had told James how much she liked his dark hair as opposed to the awful wig and how she liked to untidy his queue, and James bore her down to the bed to cut off her talk with a kiss as he took her not even letting her undress and leaving her breathless and rumpled and happy.

Until after when once he was done helping her out of her rumpled clothing – most of his having been discarded along the way – his clothing being much easier to get out of. He pressed a kiss to a red mark on her side left by the corset as she flung her things to the floor. He pulled her close and she cuddled close to him tired and replete and quite satisfied with everything except of course the war with France and James’ upcoming absence. Everything seemed quite lovely until he spoke. “What you said before,” he said sounding hesitant. “ You do not have to say such things,” he added quietly, and Elizabeth did not even know what he meant at first and he pressed a kiss to her should reassuringly “It’s kind of you.  But you do not need to pretend. I know things are better between us. But I know I’m not the husband you would have chosen.” Elizabeth pulled away from her temper flaring with her. Would he never believe she cared for him? She felt stricken and angry and then James pulled her close. “I am not scolding,” he reassured. “I don’t mean to ask more than you can give Elizabeth, you are a wonderful wife.” And then despite her annoyance with him, she felt suddenly hopeful. Perhaps he did not believe her, but surely such a response meant he cared about her opinion of him. Otherwise, why say anything.

 

“Still no expectations?” she asked blinking at him in the dark. “I am not pretending.” James was quiet, and Elizabeth wondered if there was anything she could say to convince him. “I’m not pretending now,” she repeated. “I was barely pretending when you were ill. At first, I didn’t even know how I would do it. How could I pretend that we had a close relationship, act as if I was used to being an attentive wife? I had never been one. We’d barely spent any time together. But I didn’t even have to tell a lot of lies. I wasn’t _allowed_ to tell you anything or correct your assumptions and you were so sure we were happy that it was easy. It was lovely to be close to you. It was like it was _real_. It made me wonder what it could be like if only we gave it a chance. And I knew I should have felt awful over lying and letting you think you were fond of me - you had a _brain fever_ and that was before I knew about your headaches and that you were in pain. But I wasn’t lying – not really. I just _was_ happy until you remembered how much you hated me.”

“I _have_ never hated you,” James said vehemently which made sense given his claim earlier that night that he had not been weary of her but ignored everything else she had said and didn’t at all explain his attitude at all

“Well it seemed like you did,” she said. “You thought I was unfaithful and you didn’t want me, and I couldn’t do anything right.” James took a deep breath, but Elizabeth rushed on not quite done. “And I know I was awful too. I was sulky and difficult but when I did try – that just seemed to make things worse.”

“Your trying did only make it worse,” James said quietly. “That it was clearly such an effort on your part. To even be civil. I never wanted to trap you Elizabeth and I felt like I had. And after that first time you came to my bed – after you had made it clear how far you would go in the name of duty – I assumed every other offering was in a similar vein.”

“Well it wasn’t,” she said. “And I have told you that night wasn’t all duty – I did want to know. And you can dismiss my compliments all you like but even then – before I realised what I had lost out on – you have never been hard on the eyes James.” She was startled to find herself pulled into his arms and confused by the huff of breath against her hair and then realised he was laughing.

“Well that is a much more convincing compliment,” he said, and she laughed a little too.

“Stop that,” she said. “I think you very handsome and from now on I shall say so. You cannot stop me even if you mock. However, things began, _you_ are the husband I want now James. So you can start expecting me to behave so.”

“Alright,” James said. “I believe you.” And he kissed her, and she could feel he was smiling against her mouth.

“And if you do not stop laughing at me you will be sorry,” she warned him.

“No,” James said. “I don’t think I will. If you want me as I want you, Elizabeth I don’t think I will ever be sorry again.”

That could not help but be worth all the arguments. Elizabeth thought curling in his arms certain she would never get to sleep, she was so happy.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his brother out of the way, James and Elizabeth clear the air entirely and prepare for his upcoming tour.

The next day Elizabeth woke with a smile on her lips and feeling like everything was right with the world. Until she noticed the empty bed beside her and she sat up blinking to find James was not only up but already dressed. She was sure that if she had not stirred on her own he would not have meant to wake her at all before he left for the day. She slipped out of bed in nothing but her rather rumpled shift and went to steal a kiss before he could sneak out. “I will allow your brother needs dealing with,” she told him. “But his timing is beyond inconvenient.”

“Quite,” James agreed. He pulled her against him and held her close for a moment. He did not look at all like he wanted to leave which was at least positive. “I have spent most of my life thinking I could not despise Archibald more,” James told her. “But it turned out I was quite incorrect.” This made her smile.  “I will come home as soon as I have dealt with him,” James added the offer surprising her. She knew how much he had to do before he sailed, and he had lost enough time having to deal with Archibald.

“I would like that,” Elizabeth said. “If you can spare the time.” Of course, there is nothing saying his brother won’t take up his entire day again. And still not be dealt with.

 

James nuzzled her neck for a moment and then captured her mouth with his and kissed her properly, she was firmly pressed against him and his tongue was plundering her mouth. It would have been a most welcome way to start the morning if it wasn’t for the fact he was leaving. “Do you have plans?” he asked sounding almost hopeful as if he had to let her go to dress it might win them some self-control, but Elizabeth only held tightly to him.

“No plans at all.” She bit her lip and then added. “I haven’t accepted a single invite since you said you were sailing soon.” It was something she might not have said before, feeling at once as if it was too much and not enough. But now it seemed like the sort of thing he might like to know and from the smile she received, it seemed the right thing to have said. James reluctantly released her anyway and she settled back on the bed. She made herself comfortable in bed stretching out atop the mussed blankets until her shift rode up to flash him a considerable amount of leg. “I might just stay here and think about what we might do when you come back.” 

“You are doing that on purpose,” James said looking agonised in a way that was rather satisfying. Not as satisfying as it would be if he stayed of course.

“Of course, I am,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps I know you have to go. But I do not have to like it.” She pouted at him and was gratified when James came over to press more kisses on her, sliding one hand running up her bare leg to touch her. And he did not protest at all when she reached down to unfasten his breeches and take him in hand. It was just as well. Elizabeth had been prepared to tell him she wouldn’t mind waiting, but she wouldn’t have really meant it.

 

Still, she was able to convey with her grasping hands and hiked up her night shift that there was very little need for preliminaries. When James pushed inside her she murmured her approval holding tight to his uniformed shoulders and revelling in the feel of him frantic and needy bucking against her.  She liked pushing him to this, to know that he wanted her this much even if she now had reason to think it was perhaps more than want. James lasted only until she was overwhelmed with pleasure which took hardly any time when he was so focused on her and so demanding all at once.

James looked rather ashamed afterwards. Of what she didn’t know – there were so many options; that he had bedded her almost fully dressed while she was practically naked, that he had bedded his wife when he should be out hunting his reprobate brother. He sometimes even fretted that being rough was improper Elizabeth knew. But Elizabeth had found the whole matter rather exciting and wholly satisfactory and wanted to make that abundantly clear. “That was marvellous,” she said smugly. “Just see that you are thinking of that,” she added resting back on the pillows and fixing him with a haughty look. “Not any other offers you might receive while in pursuit of your brother.”

James went from ashamed to startled. “Elizabeth,” he said earnestly. “Since laying with you. It would take rather more than shrapnel to the head before I could think of any woman but _you_. No matter what offers I might receive.”

That was rather encouraging really, Elizabeth had thought at first. But after James had straightened his uniform completed his uniform with the dreadful wig and then finally gave her one last kiss before he left did that qualifier begin to concern her.  Elizabeth had meant to doze a little and hope he wasn’t gone long – a bribe might deal with his brother quickly after all. But instead, she found herself wondering that over that phrase. Since laying with her? What did that mean? She hardly thought their first night together was enough to keep James’ thoughts on her. If anything, it was more the opposite, and likely to drive him into another woman’s arms. He must mean since things were better. So, what about the years of their marriage when he had thought she despised his touch _and_ that she was unfaithful. What had he done then to deal with his wants? Elizabeth could not help but dislike the notion of James and another woman, no matter how difficult things had been between them. It irritated her so much extremely she could not bear to lay abed and wonder on it and she rang for Estrella to dress her.

 

Being up and about did not distract her as much as it could have. Elizabeth decided that for all she obviously could not be of any use in the investigation but there was no reason why she could not take some air. She might even get to see her brother in law forcibly escorted onto a passenger boat and then James would be free to escort her home. And then she could ask him in a roundabout fashion just what he had done for his intimate needs in the past and remind him just why he would only ever want her ever again.

The flaw in her plan was that the docks, of course, were not a proper place for a walk unescorted. Not with the swearing sailors and dock workers about though there would always be enough marines about she would never come to harm which rather decided the matter.

She even dressed rather fancily for a walk as she wanted to look her best to see Archie forcibly removed. She would wave most merrily at him to annoy him all the more. And it would not hurt to wear the dress that put James in mind of seafoam.  

 

* * *

 

It seemed, however, that while she had distracted James this morning he had not been entirely without consideration of her day because she had barely left the house to find Lieutenant Groves loitering most unconvincingly on the path outside her home. “Good morning Mrs Norrington,” he said attempting (and failing) to look nonchalant. “Might I offer you an escort wherever you are going?”

“Good morning,” Elizabeth said. “If I say no will it make a difference?”

“Not one jot,” the lieutenant admitted. “I have orders. But I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

 “I would have thought you would have been helping in other matters,” Elizabeth said accepting his presence. He did not seem like he was going to stop her going where she liked though it would be another item to have words with James with. Setting a watchdog on her! The cheek of him.

“The Commodore has taken Lieutenant Gillette,” Groves told her. “I promised to stay away from Archibald Norrington when James said he meant to be rid of him as soon as he could, but I am not to be trusted in his presence it seems. And I’m out of favour anyway.” That last had Elizabeth confused – surely James did not care that Theo Groves hated his brother. James _hated_ his brother and Theo certainly had cause but Theo had implied that there were two different causes which were explained when Theo awkwardly added. “I am sorry if I offended you,” and she realised the cause. She had asked James to let that go but of course, he hadn’t.

 

“Oh that,” Elizabeth said. “I told him I didn’t care. Gillette dislikes me much more than you do if his glares are any indication – he just would never say so. At least you were honest.”

“I never said I disliked you,” Lieutenant Groves said making a show of looking wounded. “I thought my advice was helpful if a little belated. But regardless, it was rude of me to comment on your marriage. So, I am sorry for that. Besides I am forbidden from disliking you on any account,” the lieutenant said. “Luciana claims you are the only reason she got through Jamie’s first tooth.”

“Well that is nonsense,” Elizabeth said. Luciana was such a doting mother she would have managed, Elizabeth was sure. “She would have been fine if that nurse hadn’t put doubts in her head but I am glad if I helped. Had James any leads on Archibald when he set you to be my escort?”

“He was thrown out of a tavern last night,” Lieutenant Groves said – hesitating just enough over the word tavern that Elizabeth knew it was not what he really meant. “The Commodore and Gillette are checking nearby establishments.”

“Strange,” Elizabeth said just to tweak Theo’s nose. “James seemed to think he had checked every tavern yesterday. Did he miss one?”  

“I don’t know,” Groves said innocently. “I was excluded from that search also.”

“Hmm,” Elizabeth said. Of course, even if he had been excluded she doubted he knew nothing but there was no way to prove it.

 

But there was no sign of James or Gillette or Archibald and none of Elizabeth’s efforts to shake her watchdog had any effect at all and in the end, she let the Lieutenant escort her home where there was a runner from the Fort awaiting the Commodore’s return and he looked relieved to able to give the message to Lieutenant Groves. Archibald had been arrested for disturbing the peace and having been evicted from his lodgings he had been taken to gaol as a vagrant instead of released to await a hearing with the magistrate. Archibald had immediately sent for his brother with a litany he had many complaints about the constabulary and the soldiers of Port Royal.

“I should go and look for the Commodore,” the lieutenant said. He could not have sounded more reluctant. He clearly felt that gaol was the best place for her brother in law. Elizabeth did not disagree and decided to be helpful.

“Well if you leave there is nothing saying I won’t go straight back to the docks,” Elizabeth said coming up with an idea. “You do have orders do you not?”

She was not even sure if James would release his brother from gaol if he knew but why tempt fate. If James did not know Archibald was in gaol then not only would he not have to worry about releasing his brother but Archibald would remain locked up which seemed best for everyone. At least for a day or so. Not that lieutenant Groves appreciated her ingenuity in preventing him help release Archibald. The lieutenant sulked all afternoon even though Elizabeth had him served lunch and refreshments and coaxed him into talking about by asking repeatedly about young Jamie which was a subject neither of his parents could resist for long.

 

* * *

 

On James’ arrival home though, Groves commandeered his commanding officer before Elizabeth could say so much as a word. She really did not think James would mind that much that he had been delayed information about his brother. Though he had wasted a day searching for him she supposed.

But James did not seem at all angry about her plan once he had dismissed the lieutenant. “Did you think I’d release my brother immediately?” he asked.

“I would never think you’d abuse your position in such a way,” Elizabeth disclaimed. “Unless out of pity for the men who must deal with him. But I did want to make a point. Now you can be rid of him. Without bribes or threats. Let him rot in gaol for a few days and then you’ve used all your influence to get him released but the Governor will only agree to his release only if he leaves immediately.”

“The Governor?” James said. “It is rather the magistrates’ decision is it not?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I have very little influence with the magistrate,” she said. She had half wondered if James would object to lying to his brother. But he did not.

 

In the end, Archibald spent only two days in gaol – if only because there was a ship leaving on that date. Time Elizabeth made the most of having as much of James’ attention as he could spare given his duties.

When Archibald was released into James’ custody and came to say his farewells. He had been bruised (from his expulsion from the brothel – not any misadventure in gaol apparently,) and rumpled and he stunk– an odd combination of damp straw, stale alcohol and bodily fluids that had Elizabeth step back, wrinkling her nose. 

It seemed James had given her full credit for Archibald’s release and Elizabeth had happily gone along with it. “My wife has had to be most persuasive with her father.” James had said sternly. “He is most concerned with the propriety of using his influence in such a manner.” Archibald was apparently so subdued by his time in gaol and his relief to be out that he even managed a thank you.

“Well,” Elizabeth said. “We are family, Archibald.” That was a little much it seemed, as her brother in law had finally looked suspicious, so she had added cheerily. “I mean how would it have looked for James’ career to have his brother imprisoned. Most embarrassing.”

“Quite,” said James before Archibald could respond. And that was the last of Archie who was permitted to only bathe, change before he was escorted to the merchant ship James had bought him passage on in short order.

Still, it would have been much cheerier to see the back of him without knowing James would be gone any day now.

 

* * *

 

The day before James sailed, Elizabeth found herself irritated and out of sorts. She did not want him to go which seemed the most useless emotion and like it would be foolish to say. The storm had won her an extra week, but it seemed like his brother had taken up most of that time.

 James, of course, noticed her mood and rather cautiously tried to reassure her. “You do not need to worry about me,” he ventured in a tone that made it clear he was not entirely sure this was the issue.

“Do I not?” Elizabeth snapped. “How outrageous of me to be concerned for you.” Which only made him smile and irritate her more. “You’re just pleased I am worried,” she accused which at least got her a more proper response.

“I would never want you to fret,” James said pulling her close and then into his arms. She had sat beside him after dinner after barely touching her food. It was nearly time to retire and Elizabeth found instead of looking forward to that she objected to each minute that brought them closer to morning. “But I suppose I must admit I cannot regret having your concern. If you can spare it,” he added. As opposed to when he had assumed she had been hoping for widowhood, Elizabeth thought moodily. “But I will be fine, I may not have always been a good husband, but I am a good sailor. And I can sail circles around the French in battle. You know that.”

Elizabeth did know. James had never truly lost a sea battle – perhaps he had been outrun – an unavoidable fate for the Captain of a first rate. But never _lost._ Even so, that had never prevented him being injured and she had never heard him speak so. Perhaps he had every reason for confidence, but he was usually so cautious, and he must have realised at least part of the reason for her curious look.

“I have never had more incentive to defeat the French as soon as I can,” James said. “Than the thought of you waiting for me at home.” He rested one hand on her flat stomach. “Demanding to be with child.”

“Demanding!” Elizabeth said pretending outrage at the term. She was supposed to want children – proper wives did. “I rather think being child will only be the natural result effect of what I’ll be demanding after a year.” This made him smile again and it softened her slightly. It was still a wonder that she could do that. “I will miss seeing you do that too,” she admitted touching his mouth softly before she teased. “Almost as much as I’ll miss being demanding.” It quite undid James’s self-control and Elizabeth realised as James pressed her to the lounge with kisses she would not be able to sit in here a single night when he was away without thinking of his touch.

 

But her words had a lingering effect on James. He had carried her to bed after, Elizabeth teasing him that she was like to swoon if she stood. This made him blush a little which was always a feat to be cherished. But he was still blushing when he pressed her naked to the bed and said softly against her skin. “You do not have to be entirely without demands while I am away.” One hand was pressed against her thigh and Elizabeth stiffened wondering just what he meant. Did he still think her so faithless?

“Do you remember the first time you came to bed when I did not remember,” James added.

“Our real first time,” Elizabeth said softly. “Let’s ignore the other occasion.” Which for a moment seemed the wrong thing to say as he paused and looked at her searchingly before kissing her again. She did not see his point at first until he said.

“You know you can see to my pleasure with those clever hands of yours,” James said. Elizabeth only smiled at the compliment. She did like driving him a little mad when she got the chance. And he could not talk - he was just as eager to do the same which is why it was rather shocking when he told her. “But you could see to your own just as easily.” And instead of pressing his own fingers between her legs he took her hand and guided it to where she needed his touch.

 

It wasn’t quite the same. It wasn’t quite as good. And it was surely wicked, Elizabeth thought. And yet it was something. It was rather intriguing the way James never took his hand away from hers and watched her the entire time until her own touch had her shaking with pleasure.

Then it was her turn to blush and he kissed her again and again. “I hope you don’t think this will mean I’ll be any less demanding,” she told him when her breath was steady. “I mean that was nice – but it was not the same.”

“I know,” James said. “It is not the same. But it is an outlet – I do not want you to be entirely deprived.”

“I am sure some would say it is more like depraved,” Elizabeth said merrily. She didn’t even think it would be nearly as interesting without him watching her so intensely. “And you do this too?” she asked, “with your own clever hands of course.”

“Not of late,” James said, embarrassed again but smiling a little.When would he have the chance? “ _Obviously_. But before yes, before I knew you wanted me.”

 

It was such a sweet moment. Elizabeth thought, James, blushing and smiling and showing her wicked things so she did not have to go without. It would quite ruin it to ask if he had been faithful to her in the past. But she can’t imagine she would ever have a better opening. “You did not have other . .” she paused awkwardly before settling on, “outlets?”  She clung to him a little, so he could not escape her if she offended him, but he only looked confused until eventually it dawned on him what she was asked and she saw his face darken with temper at the accusation so she hurried to point out. “You thought that I had made other arrangements.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I did think that. Because I found your bed empty at night.” But he took a deep breath and suddenly admitted. “It drove me quite mad. That I did not know where you were those nights. I was frantic with jealousy. And I was just as beset with worry at the idea of you wandering at night. I thought you might be meeting someone by the docks and that is not safe, and I could not bring it up.”

Elizabeth tried not to be hurt or outraged at this. As if she did not know who he meant by _someone_. She had known he had thought her unfaithful.  And it hadn’t been true. And it was a little encouragement that he had worried. “I bet you never thought you’d be relieved I was sleeping drunk in my sitting room,” she said.

“I hate that you were,” James said not sounding relieved at all. “That you were so unhappy. But I will allow it is better than the alternative.”

 “I wasn’t always unhappy,” Elizabeth hedged. “I sometimes slept there just because it wasn’t proper. Because I could have my own little rebellion and it wouldn’t affect anything or disgrace you or embarrass my father. I never even thought you would notice – that you would realise I wasn’t in my room. You were never in my room. Not when I was there anyway.”

 

“No,” James said. “It was one night – in early February I think, I don’t know why but a thought had occurred to me. That there was a chance – however small, that we might have conceived a child from Christmas – we’d barely spoken since. And once I thought of it I could not stop thinking of it. And I knew there had been enough time – if there was any sign you would know. And once I thought of it I couldn’t even bear to wait until morning to know. I went to ask you. And you weren’t there.”

“Oh,” said Elizabeth. “Then you went on that mission to the Caymans. That one that came up out of the blue.”

“Yes,” James said. Not even denying then that he had wanted to get away from her. “I may have convinced myself that you had only come to me at Christmas, so your virtue was not a bar to taking a lover. And I decided that if I was going to find out about a child that might not be mine. In writing seemed preferable. Easier to answer.”

“Not something I have to worry about is it,” Elizabeth said unable to hide just what she thought of his conclusions. That she would have only have come to him to rid herself of a maidenhood, so she could bed who she liked. What a thought. She was not that scandalous.  “That you have a nest of love children somewhere. Not with your aim.”

 

“No,” James said. “I have no natural children Elizabeth. And it is nothing to do with my aim. I made you a vow. I have not touched another woman since we wed.” He watched her carefully. “I may have thought about it once or twice. I may have sometimes taken a little too much pride that at least I kept my word.” He looked at her beseechingly. “I know I was an idiot. If I had not made you so miserable with my assumptions, I’d have deserved all the worry for that bit of hubris. But it wasn’t even my word that kept me faithful. It was how I felt. There would have been no point. I did not want other outlets. I loved you and I was convinced you would always despise me. I could not see any outlet for how that felt in another woman’s arms.”

Elizabeth froze then. He had never said that before. There had been hints. He had almost said it once when he remembered none of their marriage. But that had been plain past tense which wiped out most of the relief she had felt at the news there had not been anyone else. “Loved?” she said in a small voice and James looked startled himself and he for once must have understood her perfectly.

“I misspoke,” James said. “I said loved. I loved you then. I love you now. I loved you when I was foolish enough to think you were off with another man.  I have never stopped Elizabeth. – you must know that. I will always love you.” He drew her into his arms again and she held tightly to him her anger washed away with the flood of joy at his words.

“I love you now,” she told him – perhaps not always. “And I will never stop. I’m so sorry it took me so long to see it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” James said his voice a little unsteady. “I am only glad you did see it.”

And then she pulled him close to show how much she meant it.

 

 

James got very little sleep that night and Elizabeth would have felt guilty when he had to sail early but well. He had well-trained lieutenants. He could put them to work.

She did not behave at all on the docks that day when she had to see him off. She kissed him scandalously and told him bluntly that she would be thinking of him and the way he watched her every time she felt deprived. She did at least whisper that in his ear but it was very forward.

“You remember your promise,” she said. “I will be waiting for you when you get home.”

“I will be back within a year if I have to run through every French sailor in the Caribbean myself to see to it,” James told her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Elizabeth survive their year apart

The first month was not so bad. There had been a brief moment of concern where her courses had been late. There had been several occasions Elizabeth had - sometimes without even trying - distracted James from his intent to be _precise_ with his aim. But she was only late and so she did not have to write to give news that would be unwelcome. And it would not be truly unwelcome, she reminded herself. James wanted her to be with child. He just wanted to be with her for it.

She spent her days with Luciana and young Jamie and called on her father regularly to demand news of the dispatches.

She even received more invites than usual from her fellow naval wives. Perhaps James had made it clear to more officers than Groves that their disapproval was not welcome. Or perhaps her care of James had earned her some approval.

 

Elizabeth did not particularly care if she had their approval. Nor did James she supposed – he had never fussed over who she socialised with. She had misunderstood entirely what he wanted from her. But currently, she welcomed the distraction. Sometimes it was helpful to spend time with women who shared the same concerns for their husbands They liked to tease Elizabeth that she had been so long wed without a child, of course as if she needed any reminder on that score. Luciana had surprised her by being her staunch defender – not that she needed one of course, but it had been a pleasant novelty to have someone take her side. At least until Luciana had begun to tell the other wives: “It was not as if they could even try on the Commodore’s last leave – he did not remember Elizabeth was his wife!”

Elizabeth had tried to pretend she agreed with the notion but she had received several knowing looks.

“I was not allowed to tell James of his past,” Elizabeth had answered in her best innocent manner. “But I still did my level best to remind him. And he hadn’t forgotten everything.” Luciana had been scandalised until she had been cajoled into laughter

“I suppose Theo and I should expect a godchild of our own and a playmate for Jamie very soon then,” she had said.

So the tea parties and calls were not as bad as Elizabeth expected for the most part - on some occasions it was dreadful as if they only exacerbated each other’s anxieties. And Elizabeth wanted to hear not one more story about missing limbs or eyes or how Mrs Doughty’s husband had lost an ear. Luciana had called her most unkind when she suggested perhaps he had cut it off himself to hear a little less from Mrs Doughty.

 

But even when Elizabeth felt henpecked to death by her societal equals, she liked to be out. Everything in the house reminded her of James. Even when she got up early and went out to use her spyglass or sextant she could not help but think of him. 

She wrote to him of course. Filling the letters with details of her days. Assuring him that she was well. Noting that she could confirm that he would not be coming home to a child in the cradle – though of course, she added, as soon as he was home she expected them to work on remedying that. She signed the letters ‘your loving wife’ and added a little more detail about how much she missed him than was strictly proper. She was having the most vivid dreams again and it only seemed fair to share that with him.

 

It became a habit to add a few lines to the note as soon as she came home each day and then she felt foolish. In the past – James had only ever sent her one letter no matter how long his tour. What if that habit persisted. What if he was a terrible correspondent even now things were better? She had written him four letters already. Most of which he would probably receive at once.

He was not her only correspondent of course, though there was only so much fun to be had in writing to her mother in law and pretending distress at Archibald’s behaviour and claiming he had scandalised all of Port Royal and embarrassed James thoroughly. Elizabeth had been a little wicked and expressed her hurt dismay that her in-laws apparently thought her unattractive when her husband had expressed no such opinion and had given every indication he found her looks pleasing.

 

Still, it was much worse than any other tour James had been on and it remained so until she got her first reply from James. Despite her worries about how often he might write, she had not realised just how much she had been holding her breath until the arrival of his first battered note three months after his departure. It had been a huge disappointment. He had been trying she thought. It was not as poor as his previous letters. It was a little warmer perhaps. He didn’t mention Jack or Will or Pirates. But it had hardly been a love note and he had not put even the most mundane details of what he had been doing. If he had not ended it by saying how much he missed her she would have thrown the thing in the fire in a huff.

 

His second letter - fortunately for him – was if not much better at least a good deal more apologetic. She did not have to wait as long for it and it was clear it had been written after he had received her letters. James had written -

 

               ‘ _I apologise for the poorness of my letters compared to yours, I have_

_never had your skill with words and my feelings for you remain as_

_elusive as your beauty when I try to capture them with words._

_But I do miss you very much **every** day.’ _

Then he had attempted to show willing by including an abbreviated discussion of the battle they have won against the French. (Which may have well been taken from an official report except for the complete lack of mention at all of any casualties.) And he included a sketch of Nassau dated shortly after his departure – they must have called there for men or other supplies and another of a pod of dolphins along with the latitude where they were spotted. The drawings did make her smile and she adds them to her collection. They were reassuring in another way – in his omission of casualties, James did not mention if he had been wounded and Elizabeth knew well enough that she cannot take this absence as a sign he had not been. No doubt he would not want her to worry. She wrote back and scolded him for this – she did worry about him and she told him bluntly that if he said nothing she would only worry _more_. But she supposes a serious injury would impact his ability to draw so as long as she was receiving sketches she can consider him in reasonably good health. After a few letters, Elizabeth sends her own sketch in return, she had no new sights to capture of course but she sketches the Oleander in the garden, the view from their now shared room, she makes an attempt to sketch young Jamie on her afternoons with Luciana but he rather dislikes having her attention so focussed on the paper rather than him and it only results in tantrums.

After that and some suitable encouragement, James’ letters were more frames for his art. Sea creatures at first, then a sunset. One of the captured French ships after an engagement James assures her might bring him home soon. A silly sketch of Lieutenant Groves leading a repair party on a beach and losing his wig to a monkey which Elizabeth passes along to Luciana – it’s much appreciated until Jamie grabbed for it and ripped it up with a shout of laughter.

Her scolding must have had some effect too because James even admits to a wound though he downplayed it as a minor cut and only passes on Doctor Frazier’s admiration of her artwork, Elizabeth was sure the henna must barely  be visible by now but as James had rather bashfully asked if she might send a self-portrait in her next note she sketched herself as a mermaid – though she had to be rather creative with her hair to not make the drawing entirely risqué.

James’ next note addresses her as a _Siren_ and his enclosed self-portrait (she had, of course, requested one in return) was of himself tied to the mast ala Odysseus and a note that even that would not allow him to resist her.   Elizabeth had pinned that drawing by the bed though it caused the maids to blush whenever they spotted it.

 

There was a three-month period after James had been gone half the year in which Elizabeth gets not a single letter and her father would not let her near his office so she might look for any news. She tries every method to persuade him starting with the rational argument – why should she not have news of her husband and then she loses her temper and then finally was left with nothing but tears and when that did nothing to sway her father Elizabeth was truly scared. She barely sleeps that night and goes back to her father’s house before dawn intending to pick the lock on his office.

Except for her father and his clerks were already at work and Elizabeth knew this was a bad sign. Her father dismisses his clerks and sits her down. “If I had any definite news of James I would share it,” he said. “But I don’t – there was an engagement at Port Louis in Saint Domingo – we have taken the Fort but they anchored a whole squadron in the harbour to do so - we lost a ship of the line to a fireship. There are rumours it was a first rate. The report I’ve received doesn’t say which one.”

Elizabeth exhaled filled with relief. “James would never fall for anything like that,” she said with certainty. “To lose a first rate for a fort – he would never. Not if they had a whole squadron in place – he would cut the cable and sail against the wind – it will be Montague and the    _Belmont._ He isn’t fit to captain a sloop –he is a drunk and a fool. It’s only his brother’s influence that has him so well placed.”

“Elizabeth!” Her father said and then seemed to think better of his planned scolding in the circumstance. “I pray you are right – but guard your tongue. I will let you know as soon as I have word of James.”

“You had better,” Elizabeth said. “Honestly father is it not as if I often call in favours.” But she did stay for breakfast and behave herself for the most part – it was not an absolute assurance, of course, but she’d never believe that James and the _Dauntless_ would fall to something so obvious. And if she did not have faith in James who would?

 

It was another month before she was vindicated when both official news and word from James arrived within three days of each other. His letter was a strange one – he was full of temper at the mismanagement of that battle and frustration over the deaths of so many men. His temper means he was more free with his words than usual and she learned that Montague’s brother was doing all he can to sway the future court-martial in his brother’s influence which had James disgusted. There was no drawing only an apology for the absence and she writes back at once to reassure him. Of all the things to worry about.

 

It was three weeks after she sent that note that she wakes one night to someone shifting in the dark and she was panicked for a moment before there was a thud of a foot colliding with furniture and a muttered oath in a familiar voice that had her awake at once. “James,” she said her voice thick with sleep. “What are you doing? Why did you not light a lamp?” She fumbled for the lamp by the bed and found James standing in the door. She had never seen him so dishevelled. No wig, unshaved and he did not look like he had slept for days. If he had not looked so exhausted she would have liked the disreputable look on him but he looked so done in that she wondered just what had occurred on the return journey.

James did not even seem to take in her question for a long moment before he blinked at her owlishly. “I did not want to wake you,” he said finally. Elizabeth slipped out of bed and came to his side.

“Nonsense,” she said. “You must always feel free to wake me, James. I want to know the very moment you are home.” She pressed a kiss to his unshaven cheek and James seemed to let go of a breath he was holding to draw her close holding onto her for dear life. Elizabeth curled into him and relished the feel of his strong arms around her. He was solid and warm and home at last and even as she pressed herself against him she began to worry, his heart was beating like a drum and she pressed one hand against his chest peering up at him. “James, are you hurt?”

There was a long pause. “No,” he said and that was that and then he held her against him again as if he were worried she might suddenly vanish.

When he finally loosened his grip – still silent, Elizabeth reached for his jacket and rather efficiently played valet getting him out of uniform and into a clean nightshirt while he watched her as if he could not quite believe she was real before leading him to bed. Once there he did nothing but hold her close and she ran her fingers through his hair and told him again and again how much she loved him until he finally fell asleep.

She woke a few hours later – though James slept for hours while she kept watch over him. She had decided if there was no improvement when he woke she would send for Dr Frazier, but she was beginning to wonder if she should have anyway. It was mid-afternoon by the time he stirred, and she went to his side with a dose of cherry water, unable to hide her concern. James sipped at the cherry water – to show willing she supposed because he almost immediately set it aside and then drew her close and buried his face in her hair.

“How is your head?” Elizabeth asked unable to help herself and he pulled back and kissed her cheek.

“I quite remember my lovely wife if that is what you are asking,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I am so sorry about last night Elizabeth. I was not myself – the Dauntless has been assigned to Port Royal because it’s a rumoured French target but the admiralty reassigned more than a third of the crew to ship on active patrol they thought needed them more. Every officer has had double watches and most of the men we pressed to replace those we lost do not even have their sea legs. I don’t think I’ve slept a full night in a month and the closer we got to home the more I began to fear we might not beat the French here.”

“There is no need to apologise,” Elizabeth told him plainly – did he think she begrudged them comfort. Had they taken such a step backwards. “But we’ve not seen a hint of them in Port Royal,” she assured him. “There have been increased reports of privateers but no military vessels.”

“You’re very well informed,” James said a little surprised.

Elizabeth pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “I have been wearing my father down,” she admitted. “He will never give me the most recent intelligence, but I have not had to rely _entirely_ on gossip.” James held her close again as if her wanting information was a surprise to him. She should hope not – she had thought she had made it quite clear he had her concern and if not, she would make him see. “But if you are well rested now I can send for breakfast. She glanced at the window – it was well past noon now. “Or luncheon.” James shook his head to her surprise - “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Of course, I am,” James said. “But not for food.” He pulled her into his lap, his hands slipped under her skirts and Elizabeth laughed in relief. She had rather thought she would have to wait until tonight – or even further if his odd behaviour had meant he was hurt. And while she would have waited – would not have minded at all if he was injured, it was very welcome news that he was not.

“You know,” she said as she leaned forward to press kisses against his jawline despite the rough sensation of his stubble against her skin. “I find myself with a similar appetite.”

 

Then even though James’ hands were roaming over her he made no attempt to shift them quite content to keep her on his lap and resisting when she tried to steal his nightshirt. She had not seen any wounds when she put him to bed last night.

“Are you hurt?” she said suspiciously.

“No,” James said his hands pausing from unfastening the laces of her gown. “I just thought we could - like this if you don’t mind?”  He arches under her and Elizabeth can feel that he is ready. Elizabeth did not mind – they have made love like this before and it had been lovely – every way they have been together had been wonderful, but she did not understand why James was being so hesitant.

“I woke up twice last night,” he said suddenly, “and wanted so badly to wake you – to be with you and I only had any control because I was so exhausted – I feel like I have no control at all.” Elizabeth stared at him. “I do not want to hurt you,” he added.

“I think,” Elizabeth said, squirming against him. “I would rather like to see you lose control, James.” She meant it too the notion was rather intriguing.  “You would never hurt me. I know that even if you don’t and if you think I am any less eager to be with you -” James caught her up with a kiss before she could finish sharing just how much that feeling was mutual.

“Indulge me,” he said his voice gruff and Elizabeth found that quite hard to resist. It was usually impossible to get a direct request from him.

“Well,” she said shifting her skirts and reaching for him. “I suppose I would not want to wear you out _too_ quickly.” James’ answering laugh cut off when she sank onto him and he fisted his hands in the sheets rather than reach for her. As if he didn’t even trust himself to touch her. But only for a moment before he tugged her down to kiss him and she rocked against him gently – thinking that was more than enough to have her there when he reached between them to coax her to pleasure. His touch was rather frantic, and Elizabeth was already so needy she found herself overwhelmed in short order and yet relieved when James arched and groaned her name – every inch of her skin felt alive with sensation and she was still half dressed even the feel of her clothing making her shiver in his lap. James watched her and then began to help her undress and when she was naked and had her breath back he pulled her close for another kiss before he rolled them, so he was atop her pressing her into the mattress and murmuring in her ear.

“Perhaps I could start with a little loss of control,” James offered, and Elizabeth suddenly did not feel as sated as she had a moment ago.

 “If you say so,” she said, nuzzling his neck, feeling her face flush from want. “I am not promising any control at all.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and James make the most of James being assigned closer to home.

They spent the entire day in bed in the end. They ate a rather limited luncheon off a tray delivered by a blushing maid but that had not distracted either of them for very long.  Afterwards, Elizabeth dozed a little, stretched out naked in the last hint of the afternoon sun feeling entirely replete but she stirred when James moved and blinked awake to find him watching her. She had no real objection to that, but he looked rather perturbed and she felt self-conscious. “Is something wrong?” she asked carefully.

“I am sorry,” James said hesitantly which left her no further enlightened and perplexed she followed his gaze peering down at herself and only then understanding him. She had no complaints at all about the afternoon they had spent but it had perhaps left a mark. In fact, she could see the marks of passion he had left on the slope of her breast where he had been rather focused with his mouth and there were the mild abrasions his whiskers had left on her, they were rather wide-ranging. She could feel there was probably more of that than she could see – on her neck and her inner thighs in particular. But what had James particular attention from his line of sight was a very faint bruise on her hip – he had gripped her rather tightly when he had been using his mouth to drive her wild but then she had been completely unable to stay still. But he’d not been gripping hard enough to bruise – she had gotten that sliding down a hill when out using her spyglass one morning.

 

“You have no call to be sorry,” she said – James had put on his nightshirt at some point but she knew she had been no less gentle with her mouth than he had and James had her nail marks on his back besides. “I have had the most splendid afternoon. And I may have to question your memory again – I had that bruise when we started.” The flash of relief on his face was obvious but he persisted.

“But you did not have those marks or whisker burn _everywhere,”_ James answered. “It was remiss of me to mark you and worse to not shave before coming to you.”

 

Elizabeth pushed him back into the pillows and answered his worries by finding the sensitive spot just above his collarbone and marking him there too. “More nonsense,” she declared. When he had arrived home, he had been too exhausted to be trusted with a razor and she had no regrets about monopolising his time since he had awoken. “I like it when you mark me,” she ran a finger over his unshorn cheek. “And I like this too. It makes you look roguish.” She kissed him softly and saw him hesitate and knew immediately why. He would take that the wrong way unless she was clear. “Though of course, you are not roguish at all – just _appearing_ so for me. I like it. No-one else gets to see you so. I like it the way you like my hair all dishevelled. Because it is just for me.”

“Everything I am is for you,” James told her.  “Even my limited capacity for roguishness.” Elizabeth snuggled close delighted before he added rather hesitantly. “But you would say would you not Elizabeth – if things were ever too much. I fear sometimes when we are close I lose my head entirely.”

“Whereas I am the shy and retiring type who would hesitate to make my displeasure known?” Elizabeth teased. “Of course, I would say – but unless you have some very wicked plans I cannot see it happening. I thought we had tried just about every way there is now.”

James pulled her close for a kiss. “Well,” he said, “that was your fault. When you would not tell me your preferences I thought I had better try everything and anything in case I ended up disappointing you.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said understanding dawning. “I did wonder about that.” She decided not to tell him her worry that his wide range of requests had had to do with her own impropriety. It would hardly help. He didn’t need more to brood over.

 

“I was appalled with myself,” James said, his cheeks flushing red beneath the dark of his beard. “When I remembered. But too stubborn to say so when I was in such a temper with you. But I am sorry if I shocked you or if it was a little much for you. If I had known – there had only been one night between us before well things would have been very different.”

“And probably still miserable,” Elizabeth pointed out. “I will admit I was a little surprised by some of your ideas but only ever pleasantly so. Some of what you suggested wasn’t in even the most scandalous of my books! And for the most part, I have no regrets about what happened when you didn’t remember James.”

“The most part?” James said.

“I hurt you,” Elizabeth said. “By lying. And I did not _mean_ to - and now that things are like this it is hard to regret it. But I would never deliberately hurt you, James. Even when we were first wed, and things were awful – I wasn’t being miserable _at_ you.”

“However poorly I behaved I do not hold you accountable for a lie you were instructed to tell for the sake of my health,” James said. “It is hard to even blame Frazier for it given the outcome. I think I might hold a grudge over when you joked over me being _demanding_ when I got back from sea. I fretted for weeks over that.”

 

“Did you?” Elizabeth said. “That was hard to tell,” Even though it had been a mean joke – James had not seemed affected by it at all. Not after his brief initial panic anyway. It hadn’t given him pause at all.

“Not then,” James said suddenly a bit sheepish. “After my memory returned, it was, I wondered if it had been something you thought might be the case. If it was a reason why you were so unhappy or concerned when we first wed.”

“No,” Elizabeth said amused – how could she worry about that when James wanted nought to do with her. And it only makes her want to tease him more. “No – it was just something Luciana said about Theo that’s all.”

James cut off whatever he was going to say his eyes widening in horror. “Elizabeth you cannot tell me that,” he protested. “I won’t be able to look Theo Groves in the face.” But she cannot contain her laughter and James looked very hard done by indeed as he realised she was teasing again.

 

“Honestly,” she said. “Have you met Luciana? As if she would say anything such thing.” She kissed him sweetly to make up for the joke. “No that was all my own thought – it seemed like if our marriage wasn’t a disaster that you might come back from sea having missed me.” And she thought as well that this afternoon had rather proved she was not wrong. “I want you to come back from sea missing me. I miss you – when you are not here.”

 

“Until this year I didn’t know it was possible to miss someone the way I missed you,” James said. “I have missed you before – before we were married when I used to sail, I used to think of you constantly. Even after I had your father’s approval to court you I used to worry that I would go away to sea and someone else would sweep in and propose.”

“I don’t suppose you missed me at all once we were married,” Elizabeth said quietly

“Of course, I did,” James said and Elizabeth again felt guilty that in their early marriage all she had felt was _relief_ when he was gone. But then he hesitated – he was always so honest. “Well, I thought about you often anyway. Perhaps I did not miss the way things were between us. Every time I was away I would say to myself I would talk to you properly when I got back. That I would apologise. Or make sure you knew I required nothing out of duty. I would come up with great plans for how I could remind you we were friends when you were younger, and we could be that if nothing more. Then I would see you on the docks when I got back being as proper as can be and I’d be so sure you loathed me that I never said a word of it. I dread to think where we might be if I hadn’t been hit with that shrapnel. It may have been the best thing that ever happened to me.”

 

“Don’t say that,” Elizabeth said sharply startled by the sudden shrillness in her own voice but of course she could not like the notion of him being pleased to be so wounded. “It could have killed you, James!”

“But it didn’t,” James said. “And I count it well worth the risk

“I don’t,” she told him. “you have promised to take more care of your health.

“Yes,” James said. “But not retroactively, Elizabeth and that was not a wound I sustained through carelessness. I promise.”

“I had planning to ask you about children after that tour,” Elizabeth said suddenly. She would not believe they would have gone on so terribly forever. “If you wanted to try and have a baby with me. Jamie – well young Theo he was then unofficially - seemed not quite as dull as I had remembered infants being.  But I thought other things I suppose. That we would both love the baby. That you might resent me less if I gave you a child. I even thought I might be bored less though I think that may have been more than a little wrong-headed. She pressed a kiss to his rough cheek. “We would have worked it out eventually - see.”

James looked less certain – Elizabeth was herself not sure about it really. If James had been formal with her and dutiful he would have got the same back in return. But it had not come to pass and there was no harm in thinking it might have worked out. “I know we are both stubborn,” she said, “but we’re reasonably intelligent too – I am sure we would have worked things out eventually.” She was not sure James was entirely convinced- but he did seem pleased by her faith in them.

“So now we can get on with your other goal,” James' hand rests on her entirely flat stomach – they have certainly not made any effort to avoid that outcome today, but Elizabeth decides to be frank.

“I am not in that much of a rush,” she said glancing at him and seeing him look a little hurt. It’s true the timing was opportune with the Dauntless assigned to Port Royal’s defence James would be home often – for supplies at the very least. “I do not object if it happens and I am certainly willing to make the effort. But it’s not something I worry over – I think I gave the wrong impression when I was offended by your being careful. I thought it was a bad sign that you didn’t want that. Now I know you do, we can take our time.” She catches his green gaze and winked at him. “Enjoy the effort.” James eyed with a definite glint in his green eye – he did not object to that notion then. Not that Elizabeth was quite done. “After all,” Elizabeth added wickedly as James leaned in close, “your mother hardly scolds me at all since I wrote and complained of Archibald.

James grimaced above her, pulling back. “I know I said I would not be a demanding husband,” he told her. “But I think I could be considered reasonable if I insist you do not mention my mother or my brother when we are abed.”

“Poor darling,” she said. “You have to get up now anyway – it is going to take me an age to sort my hair for dinner.” For a moment James looked like he would protest but Elizabeth did not give him the opportunity. “I have a splendid new dress I got to wear to greet you on the docks,” she added. “And new stockings and that shift you like so much with the lace,” she said. “And I’m going to wear them all for a proper dinner to welcome you home – so we don’t shock the staff entirely. And afterwards, you can take off as much or a little of it as you like in whatever area of the house you like so I can welcome you home again.” She pressed a quick kiss to his bemused face and fled to her own room to ring for her maid.

 

* * *

 

 

It was frustrating in a different way to have James for a couple of days or a week so then to lose him for a fortnight than it was with the long absence. James kept the Dauntless on patrol for about the same amount of time though he varied how long they were in dock for not wanting to be predictable for the French. It was wonderful to have him home so often yet awful to have to say goodbye so regularly and after several months of this, Elizabeth had spent at least one visit trying to convince James to take her to sea with him. “It is just a patrol,” she had said brightly. “You never spot the French at all or if you do they flee at once. I would be in no danger.” There had been no French ship spotted that would be any threat to the Dauntless and pursuit of the third rates the French sent to spy had gone nowhere weighed down with guns as the Dauntless was.

“Yes, you would,” James said mildly, eyeing her over a report he had chosen to read in hopes of ending this argument. “Because you would be on a first-rate captained by an idiot if I agreed to such a thing. It would be foolish beyond measure and I would not be able to focus on a damned thing if we were attacked and you were aboard.” He kissed her. “When this war is over I will take you on the next patrol to Nassau Port – I promise. You can meet the Governor and his wife there as long as you pretend to be more interested them than hearing about. .” He trailed off and went quiet – she rather thought he wished he could take back the words. 

“I’m not going to ask them for tales of Jack Sparrow,” Elizabeth said. And James looked guilty.  “I already heard all about that from the horse’s mouth and it was before the current Governor’s time anyway.”

“I was thinking you would want to see the sights of the pirate republic,” James said. “But I know you are always circumspect in public – it was unfair of me to say otherwise.”

Elizabeth might have sulked with him over that comment, but he was sailing in the morning which rather encouraged her to forgive him.

 

* * *

 

She was not the only one who disliked the rather unpredictable schedule. Jamie Groves who had never seemed to notice or to mind his father’s long absences before and had accepted his father back after a year with an equanimity rather unique to the young, seemed entirely confused when Lt Groves was leaving so often which often resulted in ear-splitting temper tantrums on the docks both at arrival and departure while Theo tried not look entirely crestfallen at his son’s rejection.

James looked vaguely perturbed by the whole performance, kissing her cheek and confiding. “Perhaps it’s best we waited,” he said. Elizabeth had been a little surprised herself at the volume Jamie could manage considering his age. But she didn’t intend to let James get away with that. She drew him close for a much more scandalous kiss. As if she would see him off with a mere kiss on the cheek.

“You are the one who wanted to be here to be wailed at,” Elizabeth said – as if he would have forgotten. “Make up your mind!”

 

There were no signs of imminent happy news in any event, which Elizabeth could only blame on the time James spent at sea. They certainly weren’t making any effort to avoid such an outcome when James was home. And of course, her new-found friends were full of helpful advice to help them along, telling Elizabeth to avoid coffee and to eat spinach and to lie very still after doing her duty. Elizabeth ignored all of it. She liked coffee, disliked spinach and had never been fond of being still. There was no need to worry yet – it was not as if trying for a child was a chore.

The next time James came home in the middle of the night it was near dawn and he woke her with a kiss. Elizabeth stirred and clung for a moment before he pulled away. “How quickly can you be packed?” James asked her seriously. “There has been a ceasefire declared and I am ordered to Nassau.”

Elizabeth at once sat up afire with excitement “How quickly do I have to be packed?” she asked- she was perfectly prepared to fling what of her finest dresses would fit in a sea chest and worry about the state of them when they arrived.

She had an hour or two in the end. And a trunk, not a sea chest because James would not hear of her being so restricted.

 

* * *

 

 

It was the most miserable trip, in the end, rough weather and the sailor’s mutterings about luck would not have bothered Elizabeth if she had not been so ill. She had never known sea sickness like it. It felt like she spent what little time she was not vomiting feeling like she was about to. She had even been desperate enough to try some of the seasickness cures the navy recommended. But the first one she tried made her vomit harder and she took one whiff of the mustard and egg concoction that Theo Groves swore by and refused it. “I think that is meant for hardening midshipman’s stomachs,” she said faintly. “Not curing anything – it is vile.”

James recommended ginger tea in between apologies – it did not help much but she kept it down. He also advised walking the deck to get her sea legs and some sea air. This was much less successful. And it was all the more frustrating because this had never happened to her before. She had never been seasick – not when she was twelve and hadn’t had her sea legs at all and had been off balance the first week of the crossing. Not when she’d been kidnapped or when the _Interceptor_ had been under fire.

 

It was James who wondered in the end, one night when she was curled miserably in his arms – her latest cup of ginger tea had been spilt by an inconvenient swell and she had refused to let James fetch more. She was sick of the stuff even if he fretted she would become ill from lack of water. She was already ill.

“Are you quite sure,” he said quietly pressing a kiss to her hair – at first Elizabeth thought this was another attempt to get her to drink more damned tea but then his words surprised her. “You have never suffered _mal de_ _mer_ before. It could be something else.”

It had crossed her mind of course, but expectant mothers were meant to be ill of a morning. Elizabeth was ill _all_ the time. But it wasn’t impossible. “The cooking aboard is not that bad,” she teased but James was too concerned to be put off. “It is not what I was told to expect,” she groused eventually, “so I suppose we will have to see. If I feel this dreadful on arrival in Nassau, then we will know.” He kissed her hair and looked so worried that she relented. “So, I suppose I should have some more of that tea.”

 

* * *

 

James was proved correct when Elizabeth took all of two steps on to the docks at Nassau and fainted. She woke up in the best guest bedroom at the Governor’s house surrounded by a midwife and two doctors and a rather frantic James. “Honestly,” she said to him. “I think one medical professional would have been _quite_ enough.” And then she vomited all over again while the most ambitious of the doctors offered James congratulations in an attempt to be the first to confirm her condition.

James wanted to take a house in Nassau until the child came. Elizabeth refused. The Governor here had no problem in offering her hospitality. “I will stay until the sickness stops,” she said. “Things are settled after three months but then I am going home. I am not having our first child in rented accommodation or someone else’s house.” Then she was overcome with nausea and amended rather pointedly. “Our only child.” James would not argue when she was so ill though he did make an attempt to convince on days she felt well enough to get up.

 

Elizabeth went home aboard a second rate in the end- one new to the squadroon after being captured from the French – it being the fastest ship James could arrange that he considered sufficiently secure even if he could not accompany her. “The doctor was sure?” he asked her as he paced in her room the day before her departure eyeing her. The sickness had been less over the second month than the first and Elizabeth finally had an appetite again.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “Both of them. And the midwife? And I am quite sure myself, James why would you ask?”

“I wanted to be able to see,” he admitted after a long silence. “Before you left. You look no different at all.” It was as close as Elizabeth had ever seen him come to pouting and she found it quite adorable.

“You can see it,” she said. “And if you weren’t treating me as such an invalid you would know it.” James had not shared her bed – not even to sleep - since he learned of her pregnancy through a combination of guilt he had taken her to sea while with child and utter conviction that her condition made her as fragile as spun glass. She had not been in much of a position to argue when the nausea had been so overwhelming, but she had missed sleeping beside him. “Come here,” she said lifting her skirts, so he could see the slight swell only visible when she was in her shift or naked. “By the time you join me at home – there will be much more to look at I promise.”

 

* * *

 

When James arrived home two months after her, her prediction proved true, Elizabeth felt huge though she had an age to go until the child arrived. James spent the entirety of his first day back staring at her – sometimes at her face as if he remembered he missed her but mostly at the curve of her belly looking positively giddy. He did not seem as hesitant to be near her either, but Elizabeth did wonder if that was only because he could not help himself wanting to rest one hand on the swell of the coming child at every possible opportunity, practically following her about. “Has there been movement yet?” James asked eagerly. “They seem very still. I have heard that means it is likely to be a girl?”

“There has been lots of movement,” Elizabeth told him – which only made him more eager to follow her about and yet a little disappointed. At least until she questioned him about it.

“You said this would be our only child,” James said defensively. “And of course, I would not mind if it is a boy – but I had rather pictured a daughter.” And if that didn’t surprise her enough he added. “One just like you.”

“I think that is all nonsense,” Elizabeth said, who had heard a dozen theories from the naval wives about how you could tell and yet had the women with the most children had been happy to assure her the only certain way was to wait until the child was born.  “Would a girl who was just like me be still – even in the womb? But if you wish to feel them kick you will have to come to my bed at night. They are most active when I try to get any rest.”

James surprised her by not objecting to this notion despite his prior avoidance. “I see,” he said. “It certainly sounds like they are their mother’s daughter indeed.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth manages to have one more surprise for James as they start a family.

Elizabeth did not find pregnancy any more endearing now she was home. She felt huge and ungainly though there were months to go. And James fussed incredibly over her. Perhaps that was not so bad, part of her thought sometimes, it could be endearing when he promised her anything she wanted and never complained when she woke him in the night because she was hungry right now and wanted ginger cake and bacon or mint in her scrambled eggs. Though he occasionally looked a little green. That fussing was fine. It was when she was restless and aching and only moving helped and James would act as if she was taking the biggest risk imaginable by going for a stroll in the garden. One day he promised her sword lessons as soon as she recovered from the birth if she would just sit down and that day she had only been taking a turn around the garden.

It became much worse when later in her pregnancy her cravings turned from food to a rather different appetite - James point blank refused to bed her and spent two nights in his own room despite liking to fuss over her at night. And when she told him she had discussed the matter with the midwife and been assured there was nothing wrong (or even unusual) with her wanting him, James had blushed like a schoolboy and been appalled she had discussed their marriage bed with Mrs Collins.

“Don’t be silly,” Elizabeth said. “If there is any medical profession there is no point being coy around it is the midwife. She is going to watch me push this child out of my body and she’s under no illusions how it got there either.” James did not think much of that argument or seem to be able to look Mrs Collins in the eye if he should be in the house during the midwives visits. But he did return to Elizabeth’s bed and made love to her so gently it was almost frustrating to not be able to coax more out of him. She thought perhaps she had pushed him as much as was advisable. And then one day she was in the garden and came over all faint and she was quite sure James would not let her out of bed for the rest of the pregnancy. The baby was clearly fine – shifting inside her lazily and seeming to manage to kick her in multiple places at once.

 

It had been rather a shock when Mrs Collins and Dr Frazier - who had both been sent for as James did nothing by half seemed a bit more perplexed by that than Elizabeth was. “Surely the baby turns?” she said tired and wishing they would both just go. She wanted to sleep a bit and then tell James to stop worrying.

The medical professionals, however, were determined to thwart both those desires as Mrs Collins felt at her swollen stomach and said. “Ah,” Dr Frazier stood well back and looked as if he would rather be anywhere else. Honestly, as if a naval surgeon was any use for pregnant women. He would hardly encounter many of them at sea. “I had worried this might be the case,” Mrs Collins said causing Elizabeth’s heart to flutter with panic – was something wrong?. “You showed so quickly – but that can happen in girls with your figure but one babe can’t kick you in the bladder and ribs all at once. It seems Mrs Norrington you are carrying twins.”

All Elizabeth could think was that if James had been inclined to fuss at the first news of her pregnancy, it would be nothing compared to when he heard this news.

“We can’t say for sure until they are here,” Mrs Collins had said. “But I’ve delivered dozens of twins over the years– and I’ll eat my hat if you’re not carrying two.”

Elizabeth was too tired and bored of being fussed over to fret over that much. She did vaguely wonder – was that dozen of deliveries of pairs of babies or dozens of babies? Surely it made a difference as to how sure Mrs Collins could be. But then was this why she was so tired?

 

She waited a week to mention this to James. He was already so inclined to worry that she didn’t want to make it worse – he probably wouldn’t let her out of bed once he knew. She wanted to find just the right moment to tell him but that night he had been wondering over names all evening so it seemed an opportune moment. Elizabeth had rather thought that naming a child before they were here was premature for several reasons – what if they didn’t suit that name at all. But they after they retired, just before she drifted off, she had rather sleepily murmured, “we will need two names the midwife says we’re having twins. Perhaps we might have a boy _and_ a girl.”

James did not wake her to discuss this but the next day he sulked all morning. “I did not get a moment's rest last night,” he claimed. “How long have you known.” Elizabeth could tell he was worried that he had dared bed her – but the midwife had already revoked her advice that intimacy was permissible. Elizabeth dismissed this – she was woken numerous times of a night by the kicking and shifting of the child (or children) and by her bladder and he’d been asleep for some of them, though perhaps he had been more restless than usual.

“The midwife only just advised me,” she said dodging exact nature of his question. “I did not mean to make you fret. You must think of the benefits. We will have two children without my ever having to do this again.”

James did not seem reassured and Elizabeth knew he was likely fretting about the risks – twins often came early and it explained why her pregnancy had been so tiring. But worrying would not change the outcome of childbirth and Elizabeth did not mean to dwell but perhaps she would take a bit more care and let James fuss if it would settle him and get the infants who were currently ganging up on her insides safely into the world.

 

Mrs Collins proved right in the end and when Elizabeth began to labour one evening when not long after they had retired the process went rather more rapidly than she had expected. Elizabeth gave birth to a daughter just before midnight and a son in the small hours of the morning while her daughter protested vigorously being delayed attention of her parents while her mother laboured with her brother. The baby girl – who had vivid green eyes like James instead of the blue eyes most newborns have was not much appeased when Elizabeth nursed her first and Mrs Collins washed the baby boy who was so quiet compared to his sister Elizabeth began to worry.

But he was fine when Elizabeth was handed him – his eyes wide open and just as green as her firstborn. He blinked up at her in an unfocused yet somehow calm manner as she cradled him close and his sister continued to scream – clearly not liking being handed to Mrs Collins while her brother nursed. “I think perhaps she is ready to meet your father,” Elizabeth suggested hopefully to her son.

 

Even if not James was no doubt rather desperate for some news and after all surely a baby could not enjoy making that much noise. James was so startled to find that Mrs Collins was correct that he did nothing but stand and stare when he was finally allowed in the room. And Elizabeth was sure that if Mrs Collins had not put his baby daughter directly into his arms without so much as consulting him he would never have taken the offered baby. He looked terrified and enchanted all at once. And too choked up to speak.

“Well then,” Elizabeth said. “What are you going to call her?” James had had lists of names planned for ages but they had only been suggestions. Ideas he had had as he reassured that of course, she would get to choose when she had done all the hard work. “I give you mostly free reign but you still aren’t allowed to pick Elizabeth.”

James managed to pull himself together then staring at her hopefully before he shook his head abashed. “No – I couldn’t,” he said. “I have been awake all night listening and Elizabeth – you have given me the greatest gift and it was so awful,” he said sounding quite dazed – belatedly Elizabeth realised he would not have had much sleep either. “I did that to you,” he said and sounded so guilty that Elizabeth could not bear it.

“Come here,” she said daring to hold out a hand to him and cradle her son close one handed which only had James look alarmed – as if she did not have a firm hold of her son. “Of course you can name our daughter,” Elizabeth said matter of factly. “It is all over James and you didn’t do this to me without quite significant encouragement if you recall.” James did not take her hand – he was clinging on to their daughter for dear life and she was finally _finally_ quiet making just a small burble as she stirred in her blankets. It was just as well – Elizabeth was sure James would panic utterly if the baby cried at him.

 

After a long moment of disbelief, James asked. “What have you called our son?” There was a note of pleased disbelief in his voice as he spoke.

“Henry,” Elizabeth said. “Father’s middle name. He told me one Weatherby in any family is quite enough when I asked if he wanted a namesake.”

James sat on the bed and peered down at Henry – then back to the baby he held. They were very alike. Her hair and James’ eyes and small squashed faces with features that as yet resembled no-one. “Cordelia,” he said. “If you like it?”

Elizabeth did quite like it and there had certainly been worse names on James’ numerous lists. “Jewel of the sea,” she said. “I think that will do quite well.”

 

 

It transpired that a baby could enjoy making noise and Cordelia certainly did. Henry, on the other hand, was a quiet boy and rarely fussed. “He doesn’t have to,” the nurse said one day under her breath, “his sister does all the fussing for him.”

She was not wrong - Cordelia would happily wail all day long and the only person who could ever quiet her was James. Elizabeth didn’t even have to worry about which twin to nurse first – she nursed Henry first as by the time Cordelia calmed enough to settle to her breast, she could have Henry fed. Cordelia preferred lying in James’ arms grasping for the buttons of his uniform. Elizabeth had tried with limited success the subterfuge of wearing one of James’ spare uniform jackets – it occasionally helped if Cordelia was close to sleeping and seemed to cause a temper tantrum if she was not. Once when James was at the fort she had made the second footman wear as the spare jacket and hold the baby to see if she could be fooled. She could not. Cordelia had cried for hours and poor Matthew had threatened to give notice if she ever did it again.

“I think I am going to have to forbid you from going to sea,” Elizabeth said eventually. “She will not settle for anyone but you.”

“I’m sure that is not true,” James said without taking his adoring gaze off the baby. For all his mild concern over Jamie Groves’ noise, James could not be persuaded that either of the twins was anything but perfect whether they were wailing, spitting up milk, dirtying their napkins or preventing the entire household from getting any sleep.

 

It was true though – the week after the first time James sailed was difficult. Cordelia was miserable and fretful and Elizabeth would have felt entirely inadequate as a mother if Henry was not a mostly happily child. (It was difficult for him to be _entirely_ happy when his sister seemed to wait until he was asleep to cry her loudest.) Elizabeth ended up walking miles sometimes in an attempt to calm her – and if not to let Henry sleep, feeling immensely sorry for him after watching him startled awake by his sister’s shouts _again._ And occasionally very sorry for herself – she missed sleep! After a week the crying jags reduced somewhat. Elizabeth was sure Cordelia was only tolerating her until James returned – but at least some peace returned to the nursery.

“I miss him too,” she told her daughter. “But I’m not that bad am I?” Cordelia blinked up at her and yawned in response which Elizabeth was prepared to take positively.

Luciana called regularly with young Jamie – who was not at all impressed with the younger children. “Shh,” he told Cordelia regularly which never had much impact.

“I was hoping he might like the company of other children,” Luciana said a little crestfallen.

“Well I think they are a little young to be of much interest just yet,” Elizabeth started then she noticed the slight pink to Luciana’s cheeks. “Oh I see,” she said. “More happy news?”

“Perhaps,” said Luciana in a shy tone but then she would never confirm until she had told her husband first. She had been showing with Jamie before she had admitted it the first time around.

 

When James arrived home, Cordelia barely cried for a week. Then she made a splendid return to form whenever James had any duties that took him out of the house or behaved entirely unreasonably in their daughter's eyes. Such as when he tried to sleep more than an hour at a time or to spend any time with Elizabeth. The only activity Cordelia didn’t seem to mind was if he picked up Henry – for short spells anyway. “I do intend to welcome you home properly,” Elizabeth told James while he walked their room with Cordelia, one night, Elizabeth had a cradle in with them – she’d been unwilling to hire a wetnurse or wander the house when feeding the children herself. Elizabeth had claimed Henry but he’d been asleep for an age – she just hadn’t put him down because she liked his solid warmth in her arms. “As soon as our daughter permits it.”

James pretended scandal and made a show of covering Cordelia’s ears. As if she had any notion what was being said. “I have been made perfectly welcome,” he said. Elizabeth smiled – Cordelia’s preference for her father had made James a lot more certain with the babies when she’d never so much as gotten him to try holding Jamie Groves.

 

But when both twins were settled and asleep and they were abed themselves James clearly had been thinking about her words. “There is no rush,” he said. “I am perfectly content with your company – I do not expect – not after that birth and you do not want more children and.”

Elizabeth had never seen him look or sound so awkward which considering their early marriage was quite something. She took pity on him in the end and interrupted his list of reasons why he did not expect her to want him. “James you’ve been at sea for months – I’m quite recovered. And while you might have the patience to go _years_ without being close – I have never had your patience. I love you. And I want you. Come here.”

 

If Elizabeth had thought James acted as if she was made of glass when she was pregnant it was nothing as to now and she found being touched so gingerly was rather frustrating. In the end, she reached for him, bringing his hand to hers and pressing a kiss to his palm. “James,” she said in a mock scold, pushing him back into the pillows. “As I am welcoming you home – I will take the lead.” Elizabeth took her time about it – brief kisses and gentle touches and taking his manhood in hand only long enough to make him moan before she let go and focused on holding him in place as she kissed down his neck or lapped at his nipple until he squirmed.

“Elizabeth,” he pleaded. “I take your point. _Please_.” She leaned down to kiss him and then settled herself in his lap squirming against him until he bucked under her and she shifted to slip herself onto him with a small gasp. James’s hands settled in the small of her back and he muttered an oath as she shifting and finding an angle that worked for her. James closed his eyes and was muttering under his breath which seemed a good sign until she made out his words.

 

“Are you listing _knots_?” Elizabeth asked perplexed and a little offended.

“I am trying desperately to maintain some semblance of control,” James answered opening his eyes and staring at her. “Elizabeth – I need you to give me a moment if you move now I will not last at all.”

It was endlessly tempting to move – to drive him entirely wild the way he had done to her so many times when she knew nothing. Even if it might not be exactly what she _wanted_ but James got hold of her hips to hold her in place while he gazed up at her and then one hand slipped to where she was most sensitive and his touch was no longer tentative and that was so distracting, she could barely think of moving or doing anything else but focussing on his clever fingers teasing in slow circles and finally pressing with _just_ enough pressure. With that and the solid feel of him in her – filling her it became too much very quickly and she leaned against him gasping for breath and shivering with pleasure unable to hide a burble of happy laughter when James managed to look smug and pleading all at once.

 

“Perhaps,” she said pressing a series of kisses up the side of his neck as the sensation flooding her faded, “I might be permitted to move now?” James only nodded once as if he did not trust his voice.

It took very little movement before James arched under her exhaling her name and seeming to let go of a breath he’d been holding she never noticed.

“Can you see how recovered I am?” Elizabeth said not moving from his lap and wondering how long James would take to _recover_ himself – even if they should really get some sleep.

“Indeed,” James allowed. “I’m quite convinced.” He persuaded her out of his lap to curl up next to him in his arms. “And thoroughly welcomed home besides.”

Though any notion of further welcoming was put paid to by a rather familiar wail starting up from the cradle.

 

James was out of bed before Elizabeth could say a word and surprised Elizabeth by bringing both children back to bed with him – Elizabeth could now handle both twins with ease now but James normally only ever picked up one child at a time convinced something would go wrong if he could not give the baby he held all of his attention. Henry was making a small grizzling noise against his father and James looked guilty. “I woke him,” he said. “I did not mean to – I don’t know how he was sleeping through the noise.”

“Long practice,” Elizabeth said taking Henry into her arms and he blinked at her and began to mouth at her loosened shift, “Henry must think that Cordelia’s noise is just what the world sounds like at this point.” Cordelia sat silently in James’ arms content as can be as if to mock Elizabeth’s words. “But he doesn’t mind it do you, young man?” Henry yawned and began to root more determinedly at her until she put him to the breast. “Sometimes,” Elizabeth said. “I watche them when they are sleeping and they are curled up together – it’s so sweet.”

 

“They are perfect,” James said bouncing Cordelia a little as she clung. “Just like their mother.

“Of course they are,” Elizabeth said amused. “But I think perhaps we can allow you some of the credit after all otherwise Cordelia might shout the house down.”

James laughed and sat next to her with Cordelia who blinked her green eyes at him looking wide awake even as Henry was too tired to nurse. “As if she would,” James said with a smile. “She will wait until I go to sea to do that.”

Elizabeth could not help but smile at his pride. “Just wait until she is old enough to talk,” she said. “And asks you to stay. See’s whose smug about being favourite then.”

James looked utterly panicked for a moment – Elizabeth nearly felt guilty. “I will just have to ask your father for advice,” he said after a long moment. “He must have said no to you sometimes though I struggle to recall such an occasion with any immediacy.”

 

“Hmm,” Elizabeth said. “More memory problems. I see. I hardly got my own way at all with Father.” But she could not keep that pretence up laughing at James’ outraged face but stilling before she woke Henry who had fallen asleep at the breast. “Here put your son to bed while I see if the young miss is hungry.”

Cordelia settled so she must have been hungry and James came back to bed and encourages Elizabeth to rest against him so he can slip his arms around both of them. “If I managed to be half the father yours is, I will be content,” James said. Elizabeth knew this for a lie – James has always wanted to be the best at anything he does. But no doubt he was thinking of his own family and his distant father. Who had sent congratulations on Henry’s birth without a single mention of Cordelia as if a granddaughter was no more than an afterthought?

“You are already a wonderful father,” Elizabeth assured. She had known that he would be even before she had learned what a wonderful husband he will be. “Surely Cordelia has already made that quite clear?”

“She does seem rather convinced,” James said. “But I am glad to hear it from you.”

“I promise I am always happy to tell you of the perfection of our entire family including yourself,” Elizabeth said. “Whenever you should need to hear it, James.”

James pressed a kiss to her hair, peering down at their nursing daughter. “After all,” Elizabeth said. “I don’t see why the children and I are the only ones who should be indulged.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fic over - one day I will have more complete works than in progress ones. Maybe. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read and liked and commented! The feedback is incredibly encouraging.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading - any comments and feedback are very much appreciated!


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